


Unlikely Targets

by SurreptitiousBookworm



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, Alternate Universe - Western, Body Worship, Demon Hanzo Shimada, Demon tongue, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Van Helsing McCree, necromancy and all it entrails, npcs/ocs have a larger role, surprisingly large amount of baths, very fast burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-03-14 21:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 40,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurreptitiousBookworm/pseuds/SurreptitiousBookworm
Summary: Hunter Jesse McCree helped towns like this before, where the people were hurting because of something attacking them. He knew what to do, and with his years of experience he could get the job done swiftly.However, when McCree encountered a new addition to the usual job, he was more than welcoming of the change of pace.





	1. Chapter 1

McCree’s arrival in town was met with some fanfare, it always was. It may have been a one of the larger towns on this side of the country, but it was still on the frontier. It was the sort of small town community where everyone knew everyone, and they felt the pain of the deaths whenever someone stopped appearing at the store, or to church. Ten cattle, four people, each one important and as dire as the next.

The townsfolk sent McCree the letter two weeks ago, telling him of their plight and requesting his assistance with whatever was killing their livestock and people. He knew the mayor had told the townsfolk that he had hired a hunter, collecting money from each of them to pay for the services. McCree also knew they were expecting him in three weeks.

McCree rode in a few days earlier than expected. It had the dual benefit of being prompt, and keeping people — as well as monsters — on their toes. The information of his arrival would get out sooner or later, but he’d prefer have the creature scrambling and making mistakes, than prepared and waiting for him if he arrived at his expected time.

He rode in on his trusty steed, Freckles, watching the crowd of people on the main street as he made his way. Before he even passed the first building, he saw someone take off running down. He raised an eyebrow, it was a faster response than he expected, but paid no mind. Instead, he tipped his hat to the few people who made eye contact, doing his best to appear friendly while covered in dust and grime as he rode by. When he arrived at the town hall, he swung down from the saddle, adjusted his belt, and loosely tied Freckles to the post. He knew the horse wouldn’t run, nevermind get stolen. Someone tried once, it hadn’t worked out well for them.

McCree strode into the building, spurs clicking, and wasn’t all that surprised to find the mayor of the town already waiting for him, flanked by the deputy and the runner from earlier. The teen had made very good time, even with his disadvantage of not having a horse. The entire support staff of the town hall also seemed to be in the main room, even if McCree suspected they weren’t supposed to be there. All of them conspicuously finding a reason to be around and see the hunter, either blatantly watching him, or out of the corner of their eye. They were trying to pretend they were getting work done; they shuffled papers around with no destination in sight, filing very slowly, or in one case, overwatering the plants in the main room.

And here people laughed when McCree told them that being a hunter meant being comfortable on stage.

“Jesse McCree, hunter, and at your service,” McCree spoke clearly, making sure his voice carried across the room. It wasn’t hard, not with the oppressive silence of everyone’s curiosity and expectation. He gave the mayor a reassuring smile as he held out his hand.

The mayor, a short man, took his hand and shook it. He looked a little worse for the wear; face pale, eyes bruised with lack of sleep, and the lines on his face strained. The deaths in the town were clearly weighing on him. Despite it all, his handshake was strong. “Thank you for arriving so quickly, Hunter McCree. My name is Mayor Nobbs, and I will do anything in my power to help you complete this job.”

“Well, that’s mighty good to hear, means we can get started right away.”

“Really?” The mayor’s eyes brightened — there was a light at the end of this dark tunnel.

“Yeah, can y’gather up all the people that have been affected by this? Those that are willin’ to talk, anyway. I’ll meet ‘em at the inn, gather all the information I need there,” McCree smiled again, doing his best to calm the mayor, and keeping his relaxed posture. “Been ridin’ for awhile, I want to make sure I have a room before the place is full up, yeah?”

“But of course! You’ll have the best room in the inn, I made — I’ll make sure of that!” Mayor Nobbs sputtered, and turned to the runner from before. “You! Do as Hunter McCree says and gather the townsfolk. You and I, my good sir, can go straight to the inn. It’s just across the street.”

McCree tipped his hat to the room — all of them suddenly realizing they had work to do — and followed Mayor Nobbs out of the building, gathering up Freckles’ reins as he went. The inn itself was across the street, as the mayor said, but McCree didn’t want to leave his horse behind.

McCree watched as the mayor charged into the inn, ready to prove his claim about getting the hunter the best room. Instead of following right away, McCree lingered behind, taking his time to tie Freckles to the hitching post. He gathered his saddlebags, and gave his horse a quick brush down, humming quietly under his breath. He’d ask about a stables later, but for now he was willing to keep his gear close.

Once a good amount of time passed, McCree stepped inside, meeting both the mayor and the innkeeper. They both quickly, once again, thanked him for arriving so early. 

“Hunter McCree,” Mayor Nobbs said, and motioned to the innkeeper beside him. “Would you be so kind as to follow Rosie to your room? I made sure that she had the best one was free for you.”

McCree nodded, smiling as he followed the woman up the stairs, and down the hall to the very last room. It was in fact the best room, as he saw when she opened the door. It was fairly large, with a roomy bed, and an attached bathroom. Rosie kept him at arm's length, telling McCree how it even had running hot water for a bathe, which was very hard to find so far out here.

McCree thanked her thoroughly, telling her he’d do his best not to make a mess, and told her he would be down in a few minutes, he just wanted to clean up a bit before the meeting. She placed the key to the room on the small table by the door, and left, almost running down the stairs.

The hunter watched after her, tilting his head. His line of work always gave him trouble when it came telling the difference between fear and respect with the general populace. The mayor, he figured it was respect, maybe with a dash of fear — probably not of him, but of whatever is killing his people. Rosie… Well. That might have entirely been the fear of him.

McCree grunted, and went to clean up.

* * *

In the end, McCree didn’t clean up that much, just washed most of the grime off of his face. He had a role to play, the hunter from out of town, mysterious and deadly. He had cultivated this persona over years, half out of the need to get people to take him seriously when they hired him at the start of his career, and the other half to get people to stop trying to kill him. 

Even now, there were still cases of both happening much to McCree’s frustration.

He stood just outside his door, just out of sight of the crowd he could hear murmuring even from here. He breathed in, and then out, running his hand through his hair. He put his hat back on, tipped it at an angle to shadow his eyes, squared his shoulders, and made his way to the stairs.

He moved quietly, mindful of spurs on his boots, as he knew how to lessen the sound of them. Not that he needed to quiet them too much, the murmur grew louder as he turned the corner and came to the top of the stairs.

The whole damn town was here, or near enough. Far more than he asked the mayor for, but about as many as he was expecting. It was an exciting day for the town, which was a little too far out of the way to get regular entertainment.

McCree stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the packed room, taking in all of the people. They hadn’t noticed him yet. He spotted Mayor Nobbs at the bar, all but wringing his hands together while he stared forlornly at the ground, not doing too well with the wait. McCree could feel the anticipation in the air, save for one person at the bar, who simply looked like he was here every night regardless of the crowd. He was from the East, with short dark hair, and greying at his temples. He was broad shouldered, and muscular from what McCree could see, his dark clothing fitting him well. Very well. McCree admired the way it the fabric skimmed along his trim waist, and fit into his pants.

He also made McCree’s right eye twitch something fierce, which was never a good sign.

McCree pulled his eyes away from the man, and headed down the stairs, making sure his spurs were as noisy as he needed them to be. The murmur of the crowd died down as the first few people heard him, and nudged their neighbours, drawing attention to him. By the time he was a quarter of the way down the stairs, every eye was on him, including the fellow at the bar.

He continued his way down, watching the crowd watch him. He knew what he looked like, and what they saw. A tall man, wearing worn, but well maintained clothing, save for his damaged coat, ratty at the edges from his kind of work. They certainly saw his weaponry, a bandolier of bullets and stakes across his chest, a gun at his hip and a crossbow on his back. They also definitely saw his left arm, bright orange and metal, tips of the fingers carved into points. McCree wondered which stories about his arm had gotten here. He knew there were several, even before he helped add a few more to the pool. Maybe they thought he was cursed, or he made a bargain with some sort of creature, or lost it to a dragon.

Or maybe he had sold it to a demon for a bigger dick, but that one never seemed to get any traction, much to McCree’s amusement.

He didn’t know what the crowd was thinking as they watched him descend, but whatever it was, he had the right effect. The crowd was silent, staring up at him with varying expressions; from wide eyes and open mouths, to narrowed eyes and frowns, and everything in between. Whether it was fear, respect, or plain old curiosity, they knew to take him seriously. For now, anyway.

McCree came to a stop a few steps away from the bottom of the staircase. He liked the authority it afforded him, but more importantly it kept everyone in his line of sight, and vice versa. While he was sure that he wouldn’t lose anyone’s attention any time soon, he didn’t want any pushing and shoving to get a good look at him from the crowd.

He was their entertainment, as well as their hired hunter.

“Howdy,” McCree said loudly, his voice carrying across the silence of the room. “My name’s McCree, and y’all know why I’m here, because y’hired me. So we’re gonna skip the bullshit and have everyone personally affected come up and make an orderly line at this table, so I can talk to them.”

When he motioned to the table in question, closest to the stairs, the occupants and those surrounding jumped away from it as if burned. The crowd parted for McCree as he came down the last few steps and made his way to the table. He sat down, and frowned when the crowd made no move to follow his orders.

“Well? Time’s wastin’, let’s get to it!” McCree announced.

That seemed to get the crowd moving, people coming forward, and Mayor Nobbs pushing his way through the people to make sure he was here for the meeting. Shame he didn’t get the crowd-parting treatment that McCree got. It might have made the hunter feel a little less alone.

McCree spent the rest of the evening talking to each of the townsfolk that came to the table, getting far more information, and more importantly, personal takes about the incidents. How the first death, three months ago, had looked like a wolf or big cat had ravaged the cow.

“That could still be the case,” Mayor Nobbs grunted. “We don’t know for sure if that was the thing attacking. No, the first cattle death happened two months ago.”

Farmer Fred frowned, brows furrowing. This looked like an old argument.

“Mayor Nobbs, I need any information I can get, if the man thinks it’s relevant, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

As the interviews continued, those not directly tied to deaths filtered out, realizing their entertainment wasn’t going to be interesting any time soon. Or they were queasy, overhearing the details of the murders. A few lingered behind, including one of the interviewees, who rambled on about his Belinda, only to later reveal that she had been his cow, not his wife, as McCree was led to believe. The other patrons remained, curiosity getting the better of them, or they were getting a meal, the topic of conversation be damn. The handsome man at the bar continued to drink.

More information came in from those hurt by the deaths, and he took notes diligently; where the bodies were found, when they were found, and who they belonged to. The people spoke of blood drained from the corpses, how it started as one cow every week — which they originally thought was an enterprising wolf pack — before it the bloodletting became deliberate, and the deaths increased to two in a week, and started to include people about one month back. However, once the town sent out the letter to hire him, the attacker returned to cattle, and had only killed two more since then. It brought the total deaths to twelve cows, and four people.

It was well into the evening, and past midnight by the time he finished speaking to the last victim, crying into her handkerchief about her husband. McCree did his best to calm her, but he had never been good at this type of thing. Especially not when the woman flinched away from him when he reached out, scared of him and what it meant for him to be here. They were willing to hire him for killing, but not much else. The usual fair for him.

Everyone had cleared out of the inn by the time the widow sat down with him, save for McCree, Mayor Nobbs, the man at the bar, and Rosie. The innkeeper stayed behind her bar, cleaning despite the fact that McCree was sure she ran out of things to clean some time ago.

“What do you think?” Mayor Nobbs asked.

“I got a few ideas on what it might be. Do y’want proof of death for the creature?” 

“That… Is protocol for this sort of thing, is-isn’t it?” Mayor Nobbs said, worry lines on his face becoming more pronounced as he considered the idea. “Then… Then yes, I would like proof of death.”

“The proof of death will vary depending on the creature, y’understand. For a vampire, the proof’ll be the teeth.” From how the evening had played out, and all the information he received, McCree narrowed it down to two or three suspects — best case scenario, a vampire. Those were fairly easy to take down. Worst case was a demon of some sort, but he wasn’t going to tell the mayor that.

The mayor paled, but nodded in understanding.

“But I got a question for you, sir.”

The mayor perked up, eyes bright at the prospect of a different conversation.

“Any new people come into town around the time the deaths started, two, three months back?”

“No, or not for any length of time. We’re fairly far out of the way, and not a major travel destination. People usually come here with the purpose to stay. The newest member of our community joined us about five months back. You might have seen him, he’s at the bar right now.”

“Does he stay here?” McCree hadn’t seen the man disappear upstairs any time during the evening.

“Oh, no. When he came here first, he stayed for a night or two before renting a room with the old spinster, Ms. Ramkin a few lanes over. He’s very polite, helps her around the house, and picks up her groceries from the general store.”

McCree wanted to press the mayor for more information, for a name, but he didn’t want to rouse any suspicions. He stood, and held out his hand again. “Well, thank you for all the help you’ve given me, but it’s late, and we all need our sleep.”

Mayor Nobbs scrambled to his feet, and shook McCree’s hand enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, of course. Anything I can do to help. You’ll start soon?”

“Of course, y’have nothin’ to fear.”

McCree stretched, watching the mayor leave, and made his way to the bar. Rosie eyed him, and left for the backroom as he approached, apparently wanting to keep her distance. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t McCree’s target.

McCree took the stool beside the man, and smiled. The handsome man, because he was handsome, even McCree could tell that in the low light of the common room, watched McCree as he drank, one eyebrow raised. He had enticing dark eyes, almost black, and high cheekbones.

“Ain’t y’lonely here, all by your lonesome?” He considered winking, but that would probably make his eye twitch even more. Instead, McCree settled for a casual smile, trying to lessen the burning feeling in his right eye. “I’m McCree, by the way.”

Maybe, if he got this man alone, he would be able to find out why he was making his eye react this way.

“I was here for your introduction earlier, Hunter McCree. As for being alone, Rosie was here earlier, but you seemed to have scared her off,” the man informed him, talking into his glass.

“A real shame too, or I’d’ve asked her to get another drink for you. On me, of course.”

“How kind of you, but I believe this is enough for me. I would have expected you to drink something yourself, Hunter, to unwind from the busy night.”

“Yeah, it was pretty busy, coulda sworn the whole town was here.”

“Nearly, but not quite.”

“But.” McCree leaned in, pausing for what he hoped was dramatic effect. He admired the man from under the brim of his hat, closing his right eye to allow it to rest, and prayed it looked sultry instead of weird. While McCree knew how to seduce people, it had been some time since his last encounter. That, and they were normal humans, instead of this unknown man in front of him. “There is more than one way to unwind and relax, my handsome fellow.”

The man finally drained his drink, placing it on the bar top. He turned to face McCree fully, and tilted his head, appraising McCree. “You are forward.”

“I can’t ignore how good you look, if you don’t mind me sayin’. You’re exceptional.”

The man hummed, looking thoughtful.

McCree climbed behind the bar, and poured both of them a drink. They spoke, and McCree flirted while trying to find creative ways to hide his right eye. The man was receptive to McCree’s advances, though much more subtle about returning them. The only thing he didn’t offer was his name, much to McCree’s annoyance, having asked at least twice. Instead, he drank from his glass, and asked about McCree’s work.

“I got the best room here,” McCree threw in with a half-lidded gaze, looking hopeful. He didn’t want to mention how nice the bed was, because that seemed too strong. He wanted this to work, inviting the man to his room, because McCree knew he’d be back to square one if it didn’t, and would be forced to follow him to gather information. Making the target suspicious of his motives wasn’t a great idea for any of his potential plans if they didn’t make it to his room.

“You have my attention,” the man stated, standing up. He reached out, trailing his fingers along McCree’s jaw to the hunter’s chin, before walking away. The man moved quickly, heading for the stairs to the second floor, leaving McCree to scramble after him. As they climbed the stairs, McCree’s initial assessment of the man didn’t do him justice. Sitting down at the bar, and in the low light of the inn, hadn’t let McCree see the way his pants fit his backside and legs so snugly.

McCree shook his head to clear his thoughts, suspicious of how eager the man seemed. McCree didn’t think he did that well, to be honest, but he followed the man anyway.

They made it to McCree’s room together, but before McCree could grab the handle, he was grabbed from behind. The hunter’s heart leapt into his throat as he spun around, mind and body warring about the appropriate reaction. Muscle memory demanded he get his arms up, fight off the attacker, or grab one of his hidden knives. His mind yelled at him not to do anything stupid, as he was pinned to the door, and the man pressed bodily against him, sliding a thigh between his legs.

“A… A little warnin’ next time y’do that, okay? I coulda clocked you.” McCree laughed, shakily. “By the way, I still haven’t caught your name...”

The man hummed again, and leaned in, pressing their lips together. McCree’s arms moved to the man’s shoulders, and pulled him closer.

They stood there for a time, kissing in the low light of the hallway. McCree hoped no one interrupted them, because then he would have to get back on the job. He was in no rush to stop, not with how skillful the man was with his mouth.

Thankfully, everyone seemed to be asleep.

The man bit at his lip, it hadn’t been the first time he did it, but McCree noted that his teeth seemed a bit sharper than before. McCree cracked open his eye, curious, and… Was the man’s skin darker than before? Or were the low light of the lamps playing tricks on him?

McCree hadn’t made a noise — other than a moan, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary — but his partner seemed to notice a shift in McCree’s demeanour. The man pulled back, cupping McCree’s face in his hands. He stroked his thumbs across McCree’s cheekbones, nose, and eyes. McCree was forced to close his eyes at the last one, frowning. It was a little weird. “I should head back, it’s getting late.”

“What —” McCree started to say, but he wasn’t sure what question he was going to ask. What are you, maybe. What is your name was another contender. Or even, what do you mean, leave? Either way, his question was interrupted by the man pulling the hunter’s hat down over his eyes, and running back down the hall. McCree growled, righting his hat. The fact that the man moved so quickly that he wasn’t in the hallway anymore proved he wasn’t human, but it didn’t narrow down what he was.

When McCree finally made it around the corner, and looked over the common room, the man was nowhere in sight. Instead, he saw the innkeeper zipped out from behind the bar, locked the doors for the evening, and then near instantaneously disappeared into the back once more. 

McCree smiled ruefully — she really didn’t like him. He walked back to his room, considering his next course of action. With no name, and no information, he would have to go back to his original plan. He didn’t get much of out that encounter job-wise, but personally, he was disappointed for an entirely different reason.

With that thought, he made his way back to his room, and stripped down. Once he hit the bed, McCree realized there was no denying it, this was the best room in the inn. The mattress was unbelievably soft and cozy, he realized as he sunk into it gently. It was large too, big enough to fit more than just him. He patted the mattress, sad his plan didn’t work. Whatever the man might be, he was gorgeous. McCree was sure any questions about what he was could have happened after making use of this fantastic bed.

With his luck so far, he suspected he wouldn’t be sharing it any time soon. 

He fell asleep in minutes.

* * *

The next morning started normal enough. He woke up, washed, and managed to shave for the first time in awhile. Leaving behind most of his gear, mainly the bandolier of stakes and the crossbow, McCree brought his gun, Peacekeeper, and extra bullets with him. He might have the plan of shadowing the mysterious newcomer and wanted to appear as nonthreatening as possible, but he wasn’t an idiot.

He made his way downstairs, and noticed Rosie was nowhere to be seen. Instead, another woman stood behind the bar, who introduced herself as Sandra. She asked if he wanted anything to eat, and that it was on the house for the duration of his stay. McCree agreed, requesting some coffee and eggs.

McCree asked about a stable, and put Freckles in one of the inn’s free stalls that Sandra mentioned, while the woman made breakfast.

As he ate, he realized that Sandra wasn’t much for talking, but at least she stayed in the room. Unlike Rosie, who he still hadn’t spotted since last night.

Once he finished, McCree stepped out into the midafternoon sun. He stopped by the town hall to pick up a map of the area. It covered the main street, the houses and streets branching off, the farmlands and forests surrounding it. The town was, McCree admitted as he looked over the map, a pretty nice place, if not for the deaths.

He returned to the inn, and settled at a table in the corner with all his information. He marked down where all the deaths had happened, jotting down further information and ideas in his own code. There were a few instances in the past when his research went missing. Out of caution, he adopted a code. It used to be his mentor’s, but he added his own twist after some time.

McCree tapped his pencil against the map, frowning. It was a shame that he hadn’t gotten a specific address for Ms. Ramkin, instead of just ‘a few lanes over’.

He mentally noted each time someone peeked inside the inn to get a good look at him, as he figured they would after meeting last night. One glimpse was never enough for some. After an hour or so of gawking, McCree had enough, and packed away his things. Maybe he’d get lucky, and see the man on the street. The mayor had said the fellow ran errands for his landlady.

In an unusual twist, he got lucky. As he made his meandering way up the street to the general store, McCree saw the man make his way up the steps and into the building, opening a bag at his side.

McCree hurried into the store. He saw the man at the front desk, speaking with the cashier. McCree scanned the aisle, and found one that would suit his needs. It was close enough to the pair to eavesdrop, and it something that could theoretically hold his attention. He walked over, and perused the book selection. He spotted a new detective romance novel, Hardboiled Dick, and picked it up.

He listened in as he flipped through the pages, skim reading about the detective in the big city, but the pair weren’t saying anything out of the ordinary. Apparently his target was here to place his weekly order for his landlady, as well as mail a few letters for her. The cashier asked after Ms. Ramkin, having last seen her at church on Sunday. It was innocuous, innocent, and polite just as the mayor had said. Maybe the mayor was right, and his current target was just a nice errand boy. Who happened to make his right eye act up.

The man said his goodbyes, and McCree held back from following him right away. Instead, he approached the cashier, and waved the book he picked. He might as well buy it, and make use of the bed he had one way or another.

McCree stepped onto the porch of the general store, looking around, and spotted the man making his way further up the street. McCree watched the way the ribbon that held back his hair blew in the slight breeze, showing the strong column of his neck.

McCree’s right eye twitched something fierce at the sight, making him squint.

It was a busy enough day, even with the deaths and the arrival of a hunter. The townsfolk continued working and going about their business. There were more than enough people around to allow McCree to follow the man without being spotted. However, much like the night before, the crowd seemed to instinctively part around him. 

McCree cursed silently, and did his best to shadow his target with no cover, keeping with his meandering pace. He missed the bigger cities, or the towns where he was hired quietly, with little announcement. Places where he could remain somewhat anonymous, even if he was a new person in town. There, they just thought he was another traveller, or just weird for dressing the way he did. They didn’t skirt around him, or stop him to ask questions, as they did now. The questions he got varied from person to person, but he had heard them all before, and knew how to answer them from long practice.

His right eye, the damned thing, burned all the while he kept his target in his line of sight. Nevermind his flashy gauntlet of a left arm, if there was anything that made McCree think he was legitimately cursed it was his right eye. He had it for as long as he knew, and it afforded him abilities that made him very good at his job. One of its tricks was being able to tell if something wasn’t quite true, like an illusion, or a glamour.

Given how the man had sharper teeth than what his current form suggested, much less the hints of a darker skin tone, the fact that his target was making his right eye react the way it did was not a good thing at all. 

He watched as the man made it to the end of the street, right before the big church in front of the forest at the end of town, and turned left, down a different lane.

Finishing up his conversation, McCree picked up his pace to catch up, and came around the corner to see…

The man at the other end of the lane, about to make down another, and smiling at him.

McCree froze, watching the man. It looked like a friendly smile, which McCree wasn’t expecting, since the hunter was caught stalking the man for all intents and purposes. The other man only smiled wider at McCree’s confusion. His target beckoned him closer, and after a few moments, McCree did. They kept this game up for a time, where the man would be several paces ahead of him, but telegraph his next move easily enough.

These were not the actions of a murderer, thirsting for blood. McCree was sure of this now, but he was still curious about this man who made his eye burn.

The man turned down another lane, and when McCree came to the corner, he saw… Nothing.

McCree didn’t curse, rather just blinked in surprise. He was sad that their game, because it had definitely been a game, had been cut short. That wasn’t a problem, though, as it wasn’t a big town. The map showed him that, and thankfully the streets had a fairly logical grid pattern to them. All he had to do was keep walking, and he might run into his quarry again.

McCree settled for a stroll, pleased that these smaller streets were less busy than the main thoroughfare. He hadn’t noticed when he was following his target, focusing entirely on him, much to his embarrassment. Less eyes, less questions, less people. There were one or two, but they kept to themselves, thankfully.

McCree was on his fifth street when he felt like he was being watched. He was intimately aware of the difference of being watched, and his own paranoia. There was no shaking the feeling that someone was watching him from… Somewhere.

He did what any good hunter did when they knew they were being watched — kept walking, and pretended nothing was bothering him. If it was just an exceptionally fixated townsperson, they would probably drop away or approach him after some time.

By the eighth street, steadily getting closer to where the main town ended and where the farmlands started, McCree knew this wasn’t the case. No one would follow him for this long, not when the sun had finally started setting. No, his quarry had found him, and only now decided to follow him. Either way, the hunter didn’t want to give anything away by looking. Instead, he just kept walking.

He stopped when he found a small two story chapel and graveyard, on the quiet outskirts. It was certainly smaller, and in some disrepair compared to the larger church on the main street. He wondered if it was just kept in just enough shape so it didn’t collapse, and they slapped on some white paint every so often so it didn’t look too ugly, because it certainly didn’t look used. Perhaps it was the original town church, before they had to build the new one because of the population growth.

Either way, it would do.

He made his way inside and looked around, the church be consecrated ground still, even though it had been abandoned for a better building. The interior was as he expected, several pews leading to the back, where the altar stood. The stained glass window behind the altar let the sunset filter through. McCree looked up, and saw balconies lining the length of the chapel on either side, instead of a proper second level, with more pews, but it was better than nothing. He raced for the stairs, climbing them two steps at a time, and made his way to the back, as far away from the door as he could be.

He pulled Peacekeeper from its holster, and made sure he had enough bullets in the chamber. He knew he did, but better safe than sorry. Once he was prepared, he waited, watching the door from his perch.

McCree, thankfully, didn’t have to wait long.To see the man walk into the chapel with no sign of discomfort, however, made him frown. Given the glamour the man wore, McCree suspected he wasn’t a native cultural creature, but there were usually some rules that applied to them nonetheless.

It narrowed down what he may be, but McCree knew for sure the man was something he never encountered before.

As the man walked forward, McCree levelled Peacekeeper, and just as the man stepped into the middle of the chapel, he called out. “Stop where y’are.”

The man did just that, and held up his empty hands to boot. Not at all curious, given how the man had been interacting with the townsfolk earlier.

“Why’re you followin’ me?”

“You followed me first,” the man’s voice was deep, and pleasing to hear, much to McCree’s mortification. He hadn’t reacted like this the night before, distracted by other more important things at the time. “I believe I should be asking you that question, Hunter McCree.”

McCree grunted. “Y’got me there, but y’gotta admit you’re an interestin’ sight.”

“As are you,” the man said, looking up at him. “Do you mind if we talk?”

“We talked last night.”

“I wish to speak frankly. You can put your gun away, I promise I won’t bite.”

“Unlikely.”

The man hummed. “The talking, or disarming?”

Or the biting, McCree thought, but chased that thought away. “We can talk, but I ain’t gonna holster my gun.”

“Do you mind if I come up there? I would rather we speak face to face.”

“Be my guest.”

“Promise not to shoot?”

“Sure, why–” McCree started to ask, but cut himself off when the man scaled one of the supports in record time, without breaking a sweat, foregoing the stairs entirely.

This close now, McCree noted how handsome the man actually was. The glimpses he got in the poor light of the inn and the look at his back during their impromptu tour of the streets hadn’t been near good enough. In the low light, McCree didn’t notice how sharp the man’s cheekbones were, much less his eyes. They weren’t as dark as McCree had originally thought, but a lovely shade of brown. He was also shorter than McCree, by about half a head, but seemed to be so much taller with how he carried himself.

McCree swallowed, mouth suddenly dry at the memory of the previous night. He had a job to do, and asking the man if they could continue what the started was not a part of that.

“Thank you,” the man said, adjusting his clothes, and stepped forward.

McCree levelled the gun at him, again. “Now hold on one second, stay where y’are. We can talk, and I’m bein’ nice lettin’ y’get this close, but I’d still like y’to keep your distance. Now, first question, who are you?”

The man nodded. “You are not going to answer my question first?”

“I was followin’ you because I don’t know who you are, or what you are, after what happened last night, and that display right there.”

“My name is Shimada Hanzo, Hunter McCree.”

“Alright, that’s one answer. What about the other? Drop it.”

“‘Drop it’?”

“Y’said y’wanted to be frank. Drop the glamour y’got on, I wanna see what you’re hidin’.”

“Will that make you lower your gun? I promise not to hurt you.”

McCree paused, mulling it over. Hanzo seemed genuine, his previous actions had proven that. Even if Hanzo suddenly changed his mind, well, McCree was a quick enough draw that he’d be able to get one or two good shots in. 

“... Sure.” McCree lowered his gun, and watched the change.

It was curious to watch, it wasn’t slow and painful like seeing a werewolf change, or instantaneous like when the fae changed their look. Hanzo simply seemed to… Grow. His skin turned a dark blueish-grey, his brown eyes disappeared, replaced by an almost glowing white. Even his hair changed, losing the grey and gaining shaved sides. He had more teeth, some growing out over top of his lips. Even his clothes changed, from dark, familiar cut that he’d see on an ordinary person, to white, with some red stitching, and in a similar traditional style he saw from people from the man’s country. He even grew horns, adding to his already considerable height. He was head taller than McCree now, even without the horns. With them, maybe more.

McCree felt his pulse thunder in his ears, and it wasn’t out of fear. Not with the way a sudden interest, which had fallen into disuse given how long it had been since his last time, woke up and murmured a quiet ‘how-dee’.

McCree regretted letting him slip away last night, and prayed his face didn’t show what he was thinking.

“You’re a demon, aren’t you?”

Hanzo nodded, and stepped closer again, closing the distance further. McCree didn’t raise his gun again, but refused to step back. He would stand his ground.

“So the rules don’t apply to you here?”

“Not here.”

“You’re powerful.”

Hanzo hummed. “You are correct.”

McCree licked his lips, staring at Hanzo. He read books in the past about demons. Their appearance varied, making some of the things, such as the sexual aspects, he read hard to believe. With Hanzo standing in front of him, McCree realized the books had been right in some respects. It made him hopeful about the others. 

He hadn’t noticed his right eye had finally stopped burning now that the illusion had been stripped away, but McCree was relieved all the same. 

“Blood powers demons, one way or another, regardless of their backgrounds. Y’could be the killer.”

“But I am not. These kills aren’t worth it.”

McCree frowned. “Prove it.”

“You won’t take my word for it? My actions earlier? Last night?”

“Naw. Word doesn’t mean too much in these circles, now does it? And how do I know this isn’t some sorta long con?” Oh, but how McCree hoped Hanzo was innocent. It was nice, their encounter at the inn, and their non-lethal game of cat and mouse in the streets. A breath of fresh air for McCree.

Hanzo stepped forward, and placed a hand over his heart. “I swear on my power, I did not kill the cattle and people.”

McCree blinked, surprised. Swearing on one’s power was a pretty big deal, especially the stronger the person was. 

“... Right. Okay.” He finally holstered Peacekeeper, and placed his hands on his hips. “Let’s hear your side of the story then.”

Hanzo spoke, and his story matched what the mayor had told McCree last night, with the added information that he was a wanderer, and wasn’t planning on staying in the town for long, until the murderers started happening. He checked the first cattle even, three months back to see if it had been a big cat or wolf, and knew it wasn’t.

McCree was distracted by how clearly Hanzo spoke, despite his new array of teeth.

“Unfortunately, even though I had been adopted by the town in some ways, they still were not keen in giving me information on these attacks. I was still an outsider, both having only came recently, and my human appearance offering me no favours.”

McCree nodded, he could only imagine how long it took Hanzo to lose the attention of the town, if his own reception was any indication.

“I was considering leaving, but I could still help. I stopped a few attacks on the people, which is why it turned back to cattle for a time, but I never clearly saw it, just a shadow, and it became… Crafty.”

“Why didn’t you hunt it?”

“Because I heard they had hired a hunter, and I thought I would leave your job to you. I was curious to see who they hired,” Hanzo said, smiling thinly. “I had not expected you to fixate on me so quickly.”

McCree was glad his darker skin usually did a good job of hiding blushes, plus the sun slowly setting also made the lighting harder to see with. He didn’t want Hanzo to know how much he was really fixating.

“Y’kinda stand out, for those who know how to look. A big old sign of ‘something ain’t quite right here’ above your head.”

“So I see.”

“So y’didn’t see it, and y’didn’t hunt it, but it ain’t you.”

“Correct. You believe me?”

“I doubt you’d stand here talkin’ to me for so long without attackin’ me if y’didn’t mean it. Much less what happened earlier, and yesterday. Also, y’swore on your power. I believe you.”

“Thank you.” Hanzo stepped forward again, now in McCree’s personal bubble, making McCree tilt his head back to meet Hanzo’s eyes. Which made him wonder when the last time another person was this close to him. When the last time he had run into something taller than him that wasn’t immediately trying to kill him? It was rare, because being over six feet tall personally, very few ordinary people reached his height. He was suddenly struck by the fact that he was having another actual, enjoyable conversation with Hanzo, even if it was about his work. He didn’t feel like a spectacle, he…

Hanzo cleared his throat. “Hunter McCree?”

“Call me Jesse.”

“Jesse. Did you hear my question?”

McCree blinked. “Uh, no. Could you ask again?”

“I asked if you were interested in me.”

McCree’s brain thundered to a halt, and he stared up at Hanzo with wide eyes.

“You had an ulterior motive last night, as much as you enjoyed it. I ask further, because I can hear your heartbeat. It’s elevated, and has been since I dropped my human appearance, not to say it wasn’t fast before then. I would almost say it was fear, that is a common response.”

Hanzo reached out, and stopped his hand a few inches away from McCree. “May I?”

McCree nodded slowly.

Hanzo placed a finger under his chin, tilting it up, as Hanzo leaned down. He could feel Hanzo’s sharp nail on the underside of his chin, pressing against the soft flesh there. A thrill shot down McCree’s spine at the feeling.

“However, your body language is open, and you haven’t backed away from me since. Are you sincerely interested in me?”

“Yes,” it was the only word McCree could force out. His thoughts focused on continuing what they started yesterday.

“What an intriguing and rare quality to find in a human. Would you be interested in, ah, how do they say it,” Hanzo paused, before leaning in further, murmuring against McCree’s ear. “Fucking?”

“Here?”

Hanzo leaned back, looking surprised. Even with no visible irises, he gave the indication of looking around, taking in the surrounding chapel, before focusing back on McCree. “Of course.”

“Yes.”

Hanzo smiled, “then after, I will help you hunt your target.”

McCree blinked. “Y’know, y’coulda brought that up after. Or. I don’t know. Could have ruined the mood we got goin’.”

“Did it?”

“... Not really.”

“Good.” Hanzo stepped forward again, and this time McCree couldn’t help but step back, until he was pressed against the wall. “How would you like this, Jesse? Would you like me to return to my human appearance?”

“No!” McCree blurted out, which earned another surprised look from Hanzo. He reached up, resting his hand on the back of Hanzo’s neck. “No, this is fine, I like y’like this.”

“Dear hunter,” Hanzo murmured, leaning closer, and gently taking McCree’s bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it away from his mouth. McCree found himself smiling, running his hand over Hanzo’s shaved hair. Hanzo let go, and ran his tongue over his teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any other preferences?”

“I wanna be between y’and the wall, with you inside me,” McCree said, and bit his lip. He sounded desperate, didn’t he? He knew he could be smooth, there was past evidence of it, but his brain decided to desert him. It had been some time. He should tone it down. Probably. He reached up, wrapping his other hand around Hanzo’s shoulder, and pulled him closer. He leaned in close, lips brushing against Hanzo’s as he murmured. “But I’m sure y’know how to show a guy a good time, don’t you?”

Hanzo rumbled deep in his chest, and McCree didn’t jump when Hanzo’s large hands cupped his ass through his pants. “I do.”

“Planning on bein’ gentle?” McCree knew he should mention that there had been a dry spell for him. He really should. He’d get right on that. “But, but not too gentle.”

“Of course,” Hanzo nodded. “I’ll need to pick you up.”

McCree’s dick twitched at the thought. “Please. And… I don’t mind if y’bite at all.”

In response, Hanzo leaned closer, nosing his way past McCree’s collar and kerchief, and nipped at the hunter’s neck. “Good.”

McCree gently pushed Hanzo away, shrugging off his coat and tossing it on a nearby pew. He unbuttoned his waistcoat, and that was thrown off to the side as well. He was working on his belt when he realized that Hanzo was standing there, watching him, and wasn’t getting undressed.

“Well?” McCree asked.

“I have far fewer layers than you,” Hanzo said with a smile, as he finally moved to untie the sash at his waist. He let the sash fall, and his — McCree searched his mind for the word, he knew it — gi fell open.

McCree paused, staring at Hanzo’s chest, the muscles, and his tattoo. “Your clothes don’t do y’justice,” he wheezed, breathlessly.

“Nor do yours. Your jacket is just long enough to hide your ass.”

McCree laughed. “It ain’t that great.”

“We’ll see. Do you have anything to prepare?”

“Ah, yeah,” McCree pulled his belt from his pants, catching one of the pouches as it slipped free. “I got some oil.”

“Would you like me to?”

McCree eyed Hanzo’s hands, and the long nails at the end of his fingers. “I’ll do it this time, it’s been awhile.” 

“Then at least let me help,” Hanzo murmured, and knelt down in front of McCree. He pulled at the ties holding the hunter’s pants closed, and pulled them down, along with his underwear. They didn’t get too far, because leather built to protect had to be tricky like that.

He jumped in surprise when Hanzo moved to his right foot, and started to take off his boot. McCree grabbed onto Hanzo’s shoulder for balance, laughing a bit. “Right. Ugh, there’s no sexy way to take off boots.”

“Who said boots?” Hanzo smirked up at him, putting the boot off to the side, and pulled down McCree’s pants further. Once Hanzo got McCree’s right leg out of his pants, he sat back on his heels. “There.”

McCree stood there with his white shirt, kerchief, one boot, his pants and underwear down to his knee on one leg. His goddamn dick was out, hanging free. Thankfully, his shirt was long enough to make an attempt at covering it, but it was still clearly being lifted up by how hard he was.

McCree whined, at the back of his throat, watching Hanzo watch him. The demon had his hands on the hunter’s thighs, thumbs so close to his crotch, but waiting there for him. He almost wanted to give in, and let Hanzo do the prep, but…

McCree nodded, and slid down to the ground. He knelt, and spread his legs wide, taking the bottle of oil out of the pouch. He poured a portion of the oil on his flesh hand. He rubbed the oil between his fingers to spread and warm it for a time, before reaching behind him.

Hanzo’s palms burned on his thighs.

McCree hadn’t lied when he said it had been awhile, and while he sometimes played with himself like this, usually he settled for a quick jerk. Even so, he knew his own body well enough, and found his rhythm quickly. 

Hanzo reached out, and took the bottle from McCree’s side. He poured the remainder on his hand, and reached inside his pants. The demon’s hand moved up and down, stroking his dick underneath the cloth as he watched McCree.

McCree added another finger, with two the stretch was good, and purposeful. Maybe he was being sloppy, but goddamn if tent in the demon’s pants as he jerking himself off in front of McCree wasn’t worth it.

He almost laughed, here he was, on his knees in a chapel for all the wrong reasons.

He was pushing a third finger in when Hanzo’s hands pulled out of his pants, and up to the front of McCree’s shirt. McCree made a curious noise when Hanzo grabbed a handful of each side, and gasped when the demon ripped it open, popping buttons off as it went. He was on full display, and McCree hadn’t realized how much the thought thrilled him.

Hanzo reached up, and pulled the kerchief away from McCree neck. He leaned in, sliding his hands back down to cup McCree’s pecs. He grazed his teeth against the column of McCree’s throat, biting the hunter’s neck, squeezing and brushing his thumbs across McCree’s nipples.

McCree panted, and groaned in frustration, half wanting to pull his fingers out now. He also realized that Hanzo still hadn’t taken his pants off; the demon was still significantly more clothed than he was. With a growl, McCree grabbed at one sleeve of Hanzo’s gi with his metal hand, tugging and pulling it off, which Hanzo graciously slipped his arm out.

When Hanzo trailed his hands down McCree’s chest and stomach, nails tracing lines across his skin, with one destination in mind, McCree had enough. He was sure if Hanzo started touching his dick, he’d come far too soon for his liking. McCree pulled his fingers out, and brushed them against his shirt to haphazardly clean them. Hanzo had made the damn thing a lost cause anyway.

He grabbed Hanzo’s hands, stilling them, and met the demon’s gaze, panting. 

“Stand,” the demon commanded.

McCree shivered as he climbed to his feet carefully, letting go of Hanzo’s hands. He didn’t have to wait for long, Hanzo hooked his arms behind McCree’s knees, and his hands came to rest at the small of McCree’s back as the demon lifted the hunter up. McCree wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s neck to stabilize himself, and gave a full body twitch when he felt the wall against his back.

One hand moved away from his back, and there was a rustle of cloth. McCree grinned, realizing that Hanzo was finally getting his pants out of the way. There was a slight shift in position, the other hand moving from McCree’s back to his ass, and he felt something press against his hole.

As Hanzo’s oil slicked dick pushed in, the demon shifted again, one hand pressed against the wall beside McCree, with the hunter’s leg hooked over the demon’s elbow. Hanzo’s other hand was under McCree’s left knee, the leg still wearing his boot and pants, spreading McCree’s hips further apart, and letting gravity help with the process.

McCree pulled his metal hand away from Hanzo’s neck, reaching behind him and digging the sharp tipped points of his fingers into the old wood above him to give himself leverage. He panted at the stretch, head thrown back against the wall, eyes closed.

After a few moments of adjusting to the feeling, Hanzo finally made good on McCree’s request, making sure both of McCree’s legs were hooked over his arms, and pressed McCree against the wall, leaving him little room to move, thrusting in. The angle and position kept it shallow, but fuck if stretch and pull didn’t feel fantastic.

McCree wrapped both of his arms around Hanzo’s neck again, holding the demon close. He tried to move, tried to help by rolling his hips, but Hanzo had him thoroughly trapped. All he could do was hold on, gasping as Hanzo bit and mouthed at the McCree’s neck, collarbone, and even his chest when the demon could reach it. It felt fantastic, the lack of control.

The hunter knew it wasn’t Hanzo’s entire dick inside him either, as thick and big as it felt right now. McCree knew he couldn’t take it all after his sloppy preparation, but fuck, he wanted to have the whole thing at some point, given the proper position and planning. He’d do anything for a repeat performance.

“A repeat performance would be nice.”

“Huh?” McCree asked, before he realizing he said his last thought out loud. Oh. “Y-yeah, it would be, wouldn’t it? Somewhere nice, like my room. S’best room in the place. Big com-comfortable bed, could fit the both of us eas-easily. Even has an attached bathroom with hot water, we won’t have to leave or share with the rest of the visitors.” 

McCree hoped he didn’t sound like he was babbling, because he had a sinking feeling that he was.

“A-after the hunt, we can go back to my room, an-and have a celebratory —” Hanzo gave a particularly hard thrust, striking McCree’s prostate. The hunter dug his fingers, both flesh and metal, into the meat of the demon’s shoulders as his toes curled. “FUCK.”

“I would like that, Jesse,” Hanzo purred, and McCree felt the rumble against his chest. Hanzo pressed a kiss to the side of McCree’s mouth. McCree wasn’t about to let him get away with it, and turned his head, capturing the demon’s lips with his own. 

Hanzo sped up his thrusts as they kissed, moaning between teeth and tongues. The demon pressed his forehead against McCree’s when they took a moment to regain their breath. The hunter felt the hard press of Hanzo’s horns against his head, a curious new sensation.

“Touch yourself, Jesse.”

The hunter gasped, how could he deny that? Pulling his flesh hand free from the marks he dug into the demon’s back, McCree spat on his palm, and reached down between them.

McCree had been ignoring his dick up until that point, which made sense on some level he figured, because what Hanzo had been doing with his whole goddamn body was so much more interesting. When he reached down, though, he realized he was already fairly slick, smearing pre-come against the two of them. 

Even now, taking his dick in hand after another hard thrust from Hanzo, another pre-dribble came out. It mixed with what was there already, and his spit, letting his palm move smoothly.

McCree knew he wasn’t going to last much longer than this, jerking his hand up and down in an erratic rhythm. He was about to close his eyes, when he saw how intently Hanzo was watching his hand work. Between that focus, and another hard thrust from the demon, McCree came hard and fast, moaning. He covering both of their stomachs and chests with his come, but mostly his own.

Hanzo was still thrusting, and McCree growled again, wrapping his arms around the demon’s neck. He dug in his fingers, marking Hanzo further, and surged forward, sinking his blunt human teeth into Hanzo’s collarbone.

With a quiet gasp, the demon came as well, and McCree could feel hot spurts of come inside him. He panted, pressing his face into Hanzo’s neck, simply hanging on at that point.

They stood there — rather Hanzo stood there — for a few moments longer, catching their breaths. Hanzo moved his arms again, letting McCree’s legs fall, hanging as he placed his hands on the hunter’s ass. He pulled out, and McCree felt some come slip out as Hanzo lowered McCree’s feet to the floor.

“Are you okay to stand?”

“Give me a moment,” McCree mumbled, leaning against the wall for support. Hanzo’s hands didn’t move from his ass. Hanzo groped at the cheeks, pulling them apart and squeezed them.

McCree breathed in, then out, and pushed off the wall. Hanzo moved away, and watched as McCree took a few steps.

“Yeah, okay. I’m good, I can make it back like this, it ain’t a long walk.” McCree pulled off his shirt, and did a basic scrub of his body to clean it off. The first thing he planned to do when he got back to his room was make use of the bath. He held the shirt out to Hanzo, finally getting a good look at the mostly naked demon now.

McCree knew he was built, and broad, but the body he saw now was gorgeous. Powerful arms, shoulders, and thighs. He was a sight to behold, as McCree eyes jumped from the tattoo, which was far more visible than before, to Hanzo’s abs, and… Lower.

Hanzo’s pants — hakama, now that he had the brain to remember the word — were still down around his knees, giving McCree a clear view of Hanzo’s dick. It didn’t look to big now, but McCree was intimately aware it was. Probably a grower.

“How… Does it work?”

Hanzo looked up from cleaning McCree’s come from his chest. “Pardon?”

“Your stamina. I read before your kind can last a very long time. The books said something along the lines of multiple orgasms for potential partners.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “It varies, but yes, we can. However, you said it had been some time since your last time, not to mention the fact a desire for round two.”

McCree swallowed at the thought. He was really starting to look forward to later.

“We also have a significantly shortened resting time, if you wish to know.”

“... How short?”

“Five minutes or less.”

McCree paused while sliding his leg back into his pants. “So you could…” He trailed off.

“Now? Yes.”

“Fuck,” McCree swore. 

“I don’t think you’d be up for it, Jesse,” Hanzo joked, pulling up his hakama and tying it off.

McCree laughed, looping his belt back on. “I’m not, but there’s always next time.”

“After the hunt.”

McCree pulled on his waistcoat, shrugged on his coat, and adjusted his scarf. Hopefully it was dark enough outside that people wouldn’t notice he didn’t have a shirt anymore. “After the hunt,” he agreed.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you often sleep with supernatural beings?”

“No! No. No, you’d be the first. Why?”

“You were very receptive. Not to mention reading up on it beforehand, apparently.”

McCree had nothing to say to that. “Well, kind of rude to ask, isn’t it?”

“You did ask about my stamina.”

“Fine, fine. But no, you’d be the first. Very few have approached me like you did.”

“How do you mean?”

“Didn’t try to kill me while I was tailing you, talked to me, expressed… An interest.”

“I’m not used to hunters expressing an interest in me as well, much less in this form,” Hanzo said, motioning from his horns to his clawed feet. “Thank you for that.”

McCree knew for sure he was blushing now, there was no denying how hot his face was. Knowing his luck, his darker skin wasn’t going to hide it anymore. “No problem.”

They headed down the stairs, Hanzo gracing them with his presence this time. They made their way back into town, but split ways, Hanzo returning to his rented room, and McCree to the inn.

There were few people out at this time of night, thankfully, but McCree still couldn’t help but feel like if someone paid just a little bit closer attention, they’d realize he had desecrated their old chapel.

Rosie looked up from the bar when he walked in, but blissfully said nothing as McCree crossed the room and climbed the stairs.

Once McCree locked the door to his room, he stripped down and drew a bath. He sat on the edge of the tub as he waited for it to fill, thoroughly cleaning his gear. He lay those out to the side when he was satisfied, and climbed into the tub. If he moaned when he sank into the hot water, well, no one was around to hear.

McCree lay there for a time, soaking his sore body in the soothing bath. He grabbed a nearby wash cloth, and started to clean, scrubbing any remaining dried come caught in his body hair. When the cloth passed over his dick, all McCree could think of was five minutes or less. Fuck.

* * *

The next morning started the same as the last, except brighter and earlier, with the new addition of looking over the map while he drank his coffee. Even though his questions and concerns about Hanzo were satisfyingly answered, he was still left with a mystery.

He tapped the pencil against his lips. Hanzo said that he hadn’t seen the creature at all, so it was probably smart enough to keep out of the powerful demon’s notice, which meant it wasn’t in town at least.

That evidence was supported by the fact that most of the deaths were cattle, farmers, and farmhands. The attacks happened at the farms close to the forest to the east, but sadly that didn’t narrow down the search too much given the size of the forest. 

It also didn’t help that two of the attacks happened at a farm further from the trees, and one at the farms on the west side of the town, but they could be outliers. They had happened recently though, not too long after they had sent a letter for him. They had also been the last attacks, so McCree suspected they were attempts by a crafty creature to throw him off the scent, so to speak. It was curious how they hadn’t attacked since, but that only gave credence to McCree’s theory that they were smart, and didn’t want to draw attention to themselves with a hunter around.

McCree packed up his things, thanked Sandra, and headed for the town hall. He planned to work smarter, which is why he had originally pursued Hanzo. Who the hell wouldn’t have? He wasn’t human, and seemed a likely culprit. McCree stood by his decision, both then and now, because it made sense, and now he had a partner in the hunt.

Among… Other things.

Working smarter, in this case, meant getting as much information as he could about the largest forest, so he didn’t get lost in what was most likely the creature’s den.

The town hall was conspicuously busy the moment he walked in, like he hadn’t seen some people looking through the windows at him as he walked by, and watched them scramble back to their desks at his approach. 

He smiled at the woman behind the desk, who not-smiled back. McCree asked where he could get the land surveying records, as well as anything he could on the forests that surrounded the town.

The woman was curt, and professional, leading him to a room in the back of the building. It was full of drawers and bookshelves, as well as a large table in the middle. She pulled open several drawers, and explained the contents of each, from land information to the types of trees found in the forest.

McCree tipped his hat and thanked her as she left, and got to work. 

He was an old hand at this, and while how well the records were kept varied town to city, these ones were organized well. He found the information he needed quickly, not to mention the interesting tidbit that there was a series of caves within the forest — a good spot for anything looking to hide.

McCree noted the location on his map, and returned everything to where he found it. He’d head back to the inn, and… Damn, he forgot Hanzo hadn’t told him the address of where he was staying. He supposed he should ask where Ms. Ramkin lived before he got all his gear, just in case the townspeople got the wrong idea and thought that there was something off about Hanzo.

He didn’t have to worry in the end, because as he stepped out of the town hall, Hanzo was waiting for him on the street.

“Hello,” Hanzo said, almost cheerfully, as he waved.

“Howdy! I was just thinkin’ about you, I’m glad you showed up.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I got a lead. We might as well get started,” McCree headed for the inn, and Hanzo fell in step beside him.

“You’re very keen to end this, is there a reason why?”

McCree stopped in the doorway of the inn, and turned, frowning. He was about to ask what Hanzo was talking about when he saw the other man smirking smugly. McCree huffed, and looked away. “I don’t like bein’ teased, y’know.”

“I very much doubt that, Jesse.”

“I do want to do my job, y’know,” McCree said, climbing the stairs to his room.

“Of course.”

“There’s a lot of good motivations to deal with creature. They’ve killed.”

Hanzo nodded solemnly, but it was ruined by the fact that he was still smiling.

“Do you have anythin’ to prepare? Supplies t’get?” McCree asked, once they had stopped outside his door.

“Yes, where shall I meet you?”

McCree pulled out the map, and pointed to the east end of Fred’s Farm. It was where the first three cattle deaths occurred, and also the closest to the caves. “Right here. See you there soon?”

“Of course.”

Hanzo turned away, heading back the way he came. McCree entered his room, and gathered up all the supplies he needed.

* * *

“What do you think they are?”

McCree met Hanzo at the edge of the forest, wearing his full hunter regalia. Hanzo hadn’t changed much, simply adding a very expensive bow and quiver to his outfit. They made their way into the trees, McCree directing them with the knowledge from the map.

“Probably a vampire, ‘cause of the blood.”

“Their attacks are sloppy.”

“Could be new, or did that on purpose after they drained most of the blood to throw off the scent. Didn’t want to show the bite marks, I figure. Most other things that are out for blood are usually caught earlier, or misstep at some point. So this one’s smart.”

Hanzo hummed. “True, anything more powerful would have caught my notice.”

McCree nodded, and stopped at the edge of a clearing. Within it was the first set of caves, the closest ones the maps indicated. There were six or seven more, deeper in the woods, and McCree prayed he wouldn’t have to go any further.

He also hoped that some weren’t connected underground, like what some of the records suggested, but never confirmed. Either way, there was work ahead of them.

The hunter folded up the map, putting it away in his coat. “So.”

“So?”

“My plan is to have us explore the caves, and we’ll hopefully find the vampire before the sun sets and it wakes up. Unless they’re an older one, and they’re awake right now, just hiding.”

“And if the sun sets?”

“Then we’ll move on to plan B, because I don’t want to explore caves when it’s dark out.”

“Plan B would be…?”

“Bait.”

“... You are a professional hunter, correct?”

“You’ll see, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The first cave was empty. The second as well, despite how large it was with its many winding tunnels that linked to each other, surrounded by mud and with a stream nearby. They had lost a lot of time, marking down each tunnel to make sure they had thoroughly checked it. The third gave them nothing but a sneeze fit inflicted on Hanzo thanks to some fungi. Fourth was deep and wide, with an underground stream. It was sun set by the time they found the fifth cave, which lacked any supernatural creatures of note, but there was a bear. The hunter and demon backed out as slowly and quietly as they had come in.

McCree eyed the sky, frowning. “We’ve run out of time.”

“Plan B?”

“Plan B. But let’s get back to the second cave. I want to be closer to the town, at least.”

Working with Hanzo was a treat. Unlike most supernatural creatures McCree ran into in the past, the demon thought he was competent, remarks about him being professional aside. He followed instruction, letting McCree take the lead in the search and planning. McCree hadn’t felt like this since working with his mentor, when the old man had picked him up. It felt… Good to have someone watching his back.

He didn’t realize how much he had missed that feeling.

That was how McCree found himself sitting on some rocks near the second cave, relaxed and bleeding from a cut on his finger. Not enough to hinder his ability to shoot or fight, but enough of a temptation for anything seeking blood. 

It was dark by now, but he was willing to wait. He sheathed the knife and spread the blood along his finger absentmindedly, taking a drag from his cigarillo.

He was almost done with his smoke when there was subtle change. Almost. There was a shadow that was a little darker than it had been before, but his eyes caught it nonetheless.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

The shadow flinched. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought it was weird, the fact that the attacks stopped not too long before I showed up.” McCree flicked his hand, blood flying from his finger to the grass.

The shadow swayed and separated, revealing a thin, shaking vampire. His eyes were glued to McCree’s finger.

McCree smiled, friendly and open. “You’re still pretty young, aren’t you? Takin’ a lot out of you to hold off? Blood doesn’t keep well, even when y’plan ahead after hearin’ a hunter’s comin’.”

“What are you doing here,” the vampire hissed.

“What do y’mean?”

“There’s a demon in town. He’s strong, and he’s hiding in plain sight!” The vampire stepped forward, eyes still focused on McCree’s finger. “I thought you were supposed to be one of the best. That’s what I heard from the farmhands.”

“The demon ain’t killin’ people.”

“So?” The vampire said, incredulous. “You’re a hunter, you hunt things. They paid a lot of money for you to take care of their problem, so why haven’t you dealt with him?”

McCree narrowed his eyes. “... Figured as much. Tryin’ to use him as cover? Were y’here before he came to town, and just kept your feedin’ quiet?”

“Hunters hunt things,” the vampire insisted. “He’s strong. He can’t be left alone, who knows what he might do.”

“I can think of a few things,” McCree muttered, trying to keep the humour out of his voice, tossing his smoke away. For the first time since meeting, the vampire looked up and met McCree’s eyes. They were bright, feverish.

“You see? Hunt him. Hunt him, and get the glory of a demon killer. Leave.”

“As I said, he hasn’t been killin’ anyone. Since the big, obvious target hasn’t been, I gotta ask. Have you? Did you kill them?”

The vampire flinched again. “Hunt him.”

“Did. You. Kill. Them.”

“You won’t leave?”

“Not until I get a straight answer.”

The vampire sighed, and unfolded, dropping any affectation of illness or hunger. His eyes, however, remained unsettlingly bright.

There was a split second before the vampire launched himself at McCree, but the hunter got his shot off nonetheless. It hit the vampire in the side, but didn’t slow or hinder him. The creature caught him by the collar, carrying him off the rocks and pinned him to the ground. As the vampire pushed him into the mud, McCree came to the sinking realization that this vampire was a lot older than he initially gave the creature credit for.

“Stupid man,” the vampire hissed, opening his mouth and leaning in.

Just as suddenly as the vampire pinned him, he was gone. A clawed grey hand had grabbed him by the neck and dragged him off of McCree, and some distance away.

“When you had told me to watch for ‘something fishy’ I was expecting something other than the vampire attacking you,” Hanzo said, holding the vampire at arms length.

“He was gonna do something—”

“Traitor!” The vampire shrieked, legs kicking. “There’s a hunter within striking distance and you haven’t killed it? And you call yourself a demon! Kill him!”

McCree frowned.

“Like how you planned on having him kill me? You hoped that one of us would kill the other, and preferably him killing me. That way, he’d assume that the problem was dealt with, and leave.” Hanzo turned the vampire to face him. The vampire grew still, but met the demon’s eyes. “I knew your kind were territorial, but this is sad. You’re old, powerful, but not nearly powerful enough to deal with me.”

The vampire narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t betrayed my kind, letting a hunter walk free and living with prey. You could kill them as easily as I do.”

McCree readied his gun.

“You are weak,” Hanzo sneered.

McCree’s world narrowed down to a pinpoint.

The vampire screamed, digging furrows into Hanzo’s forearm with his nails as he lurched forward, towards the demon’s neck.

McCree fired, and the vampire sagged, hanging limply with a hole clean through his head. McCree holstered Peacekeeper, and pulled a stake free from his bandolier. “Let’s be thorough about this.”

Hanzo dropped the body to the ground, and McCree stabbed the stake through the heart. Sometimes the bullet was enough, sometimes it wasn’t. It varied across creature, even vampires, depending on their age and power, and how recently they fed. 

Hanzo knelt down by the body, and touched the blood that leaked out of the head wound. He rubbed it between his fingers, and sat down in the mud. The hunter watched as the demon closed his eyes, and breathed out.

“What are y’doin’?”

“Making sure we aren’t dealing with a coven.”

“The deaths are within the averages of a single vampire, but… Good plan, y’never know.” McCree wasn’t exactly sure what Hanzo was doing with the blood, but blood did call to blood, and Hanzo was a demon, so he probably had several tricks up his sleeve. 

Hanzo opened his eyes after a time, and shook his head. “The vampire was alone, as you suspected.”

“Neat trick, nice we didn’t have to go explorin’ for that answer.” 

McCree prepared the body, gathered the vampire’s fangs as proof of death, and burned the corpse. They stood vigil over it, watching as it burnt to ash.

“You knew it had done it, why didn’t you shoot earlier?”

“I don’t like shootin’ first, it can get people in a whole heap of trouble. I knew y’hid close by, though, so I didn’t have to worry.” McCree smiled. “Even if y’weren’t, I have enough tricks up my sleeve to deal with the situation.”

The fire died, and the remains of the body disappeared with it. McCree sighed, pleased with a job well done. In good time, too. “I’m glad the vampire took the bait. I didn’t want to go spelunkin’ anymore than I had to.”

Hanzo hummed in agreement. “We’re dirty enough as it is from today. Shall we?” 

“Yeah, we’re done here.”

* * *

McCree stepped into the inn, smiling at Rosie, who seemed taken aback by his appearance — covered in mud and grime from the exploration of the caves as well as the fight. She didn’t say anything, but nodded to him nonetheless.

McCree climbed the stairs, and entered his room at the end of the hall. He barely got the door locked before he heard a tapping at his window.

He turned, and nearly jumped out of his skin to see Hanzo, in his human appearance, outside the two story high window.

“I’m sure y’could’ve walked in with me, y’know.” McCree said, as he opened the window. His right eye didn’t burn at the sight of Hanzo’s human appearance anymore, and McCree didn’t know if it was because he already knew the truth, or if it was because of trust. Or both. Either way, it was nice to not have to squint.

“I could have, but this was more fun. Also, less questions.”

“Pretty sure if someone saw y’like that outside a window, there’d be more questions.”

“I’ve never been caught.” Hanzo said it with such finality that McCree didn’t have the heart to doubt him. Instead, he watched as Hanzo walked through the room, eyeing the decor and furniture. He unslung his bow and quiver, placing it by the dresser. “This is the best room. I didn’t get this room when I stayed here.”

“Oh?” McCree asked, following suit. He removed his bandolier and belts, placing it on the dresser. He’d have to clean the bandolier of mud, but that could be done another time. 

“Yes, I was in one of the smaller ones downstairs. It was one of the reasons why I sought out Ms. Ramkin. Cheaper, better room. You are right though, this is a very big bed.” Hanzo stood at the foot of the bed, but made no room to touch it. “You did boast about hot water, correct?”

“Yeah, a bath would be a good idea, over here…” McCree made his way into the adjoining bathroom. “How hot do y’like it?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with. I suspect my tolerance is stronger than yours.”

McCree prepared the bath, and stepped away as it started to fill. It’d take a bit of time, he learned previously, because while the inn had the pipes to pump the water, it didn’t mean that they were good, as opposed to in the bigger cities with better funds.

He turned back to Hanzo, and smiled.

Hanzo was grinning, appraising him from head to toe, with a slow, obvious crawl. When his gaze returned to McCree’s face, he crossed his arms over his chest, and rumbled. “Strip.”

McCree raised an eyebrow, doing his best to downplay how excited the command made him. He knew he was to follow the order, who wouldn’t, but he wasn’t planning on giving in too easily. He shrugged off his coat — another thing he’d have to clean later — McCree walked back into the main room. He hung his coat on the rack by the door carefully, and took his time removing his boots. Hanzo could wait a little bit. He lined them up by the door, making sure they were perfect. His hat went next, hanging from another hook on the rack.

He returned to the bathroom, Hanzo smiling wider at his sass, and took off his waistcoat. He folded that with exaggerated care, and placed it on the counter. The kerchief came and went, folded neatly. Then, to make a point, very, very slowly unbuttoned his shirt, making sure all the buttons were still attached to the shirt after the fact. The shirt joined the waistcoat and scarf on the counter..

Shimmying out of leather pants was a bit tricky, but McCree accomplished it. Those were carefully hung from the back of a chair in the bathroom, due to the mud. He kicked off his underwear, dropping them off on the seat of the chair. 

McCree turned back to Hanzo, and spread his hands.

Hanzo nodded. “Thank you.” He sounded sincere, which made McCree laugh.

As Hanzo began to undress, McCree went to the bath. It was close to the top, so he switched off the knobs and turned to lean against the rim.

“I was expecting…” Hanzo began, then frowned, looking a little lost for words.

“Expectin’…?”

“Are you not sore from the other night?”

McCree blinked. “Oh, naw. It was a little tricky, but that wasn’t too bad. I’ve felt worse after a long ride.”

“I see.” Hanzo hummed thoughtfully, folding his clothes carefully and placing them on the counter beside McCree’s pile. He picked up a bucket that was nearby the sink, and inspected it. It seemed to pass whatever test, as Hanzo carried it, as well as a small vial from his own pouches, to the tub.

The bath was big enough to fit the two of them, and McCree was thankful that Hanzo was keeping in his human form. He didn’t know how much of a tighter fit it would be with the other man in his true form.

McCree wasn’t sure what he was expecting from a bath, but it was tame. They washed thoroughly, there was no funny business, although Hanzo revealed himself to be a huge fan of cleanliness. After they both scrubbed down, getting most of the dirt and grime off of themselves, Hanzo drained the tub.

“You have mud in your hair,” he said, and filling the bucket up with water from the tub’s tap. “Turn around.”

McCree turned, and gasped when Hanzo dumped cold water on his head. He spluttered. “Couldn’t have bothered to heat it up, could you?”

There was a short laugh behind him, before Hanzo ran his hands through McCree’s long hair. The demon shook out the tie that kept it away from McCree’s face, and tossed it to the floor. He got to work, rubbing the soap into McCree’s hair.

It was nice, and McCree found himself tipping his head back to allow Hanzo better access. The demon’s fingers dug into his scalp, massaging as he thoroughly washed McCree’s hair. His hands disappeared after a time, and the cold water via bucket returned, rinsing McCree’s hair of the soap and making him splutter again. 

“Really?” McCree whipped his head around to glare, but got doused again. “Would you stop!”

“There is still some soap,” Hanzo said, grinning wickedly, as he filled the bucket again. McCree was prepared to climb out of the tub, but Hanzo just dumped it on himself instead.

“Why.”

“This way we can soak without worrying about dirty water,” Hanzo stated matter of factly, as he turned the knobs and started to fill the bath, thankfully with hot water again. He stopped it before it went as high as before, but it was as nice as Hanzo said.

They soaked for a time, relaxing. It was… It was calming.

“I would like to prepare you this time.”

McCree hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes, resting the back of his neck against the edge of the tub. He blinked, looking over to Hanzo. “Yeah?”

“Yes, is that alright with you? I will remain in this form, if you’re worried.”

“Sure, do you want to get out and move to the bed…?”

“Right here is fine. You’ll need to turn around.” Hanzo drained the tub again, and reached over the edge. He picked up the vial McCree had seen earlier from the floor. 

McCree turned, getting on his knees in the tub, and leaned forward, resting his chest against the edge. “This good?”

“Almost,” Hanzo murmured, and McCree felt the other man’s hand on the inside of his right thigh. The demon urged his leg upwards, and hooked it over the edge of the tub. “Much better.”

There was a popping sound of a vial opening, and Hanzo held McCree’s ass cheeks open with one hand as he poured some of the oil between. As Hanzo pulled his hand away, the oil slipped down, across his taint and off his balls, all of which McCree was acutely aware of.

Hanzo’s hand returned, and a slicked up finger pressed against his rim. It was curious, he didn’t feel the demon’s sharp nails at all, as the finger traced around his hole. Maybe it wasn’t a glamour, because those only hid what was there. Maybe it was some sort of… Shapeshift, of a sort, because Hanzo’s finger felt human —

The finger pushed in, pressing and searching, and when it found the hunter’s prostate, McCree lost that train of thought.

It was such a better plan to have Hanzo prepare him. The angle was better, and he could reach so much deeper than McCree had been able to the other night. He could feel his cock harden between his legs, hanging freely between his legs due to the position Hanzo had put him in. It moved with each little jerk of McCree’s hips, as he chased the feeling of Hanzo’s finger in his ass.

One finger became two, which became three, and the stretch, oh the stretch. McCree panted, and moved his hips backwards, trying to make the fingers go further. He almost slipped, but with one leg over the edge of the tub, and the grip Hanzo had on his opposite hip, McCree managed to stay upright.

McCree jumped when he felt Hanzo bite one of his cheeks. “Y’got a fixation on my ass, don’t you?” It made sense, between the groping, the comments about how his coat hid it, and… Well, now.

“Are you uncomfortable with it?”

“Naw, it’s just… New. Most focus on my dick more than my ass.”

Hanzo’s hand left his hip, and gently brushed against the head of his dick. McCree moaned, shifting his hips.

“Your dick is lovely, but I assure you that your ass is perfect. It’s good enough to eat,” Hanzo punctuated the statement with another nip.

McCree laughed, feeling giddy. “Well, have at it.”

That seemed to make Hanzo pause for a moment, before his fingers slipped out. McCree whined at the loss, moving back a bit, just in case the fingers were just out of reach, and Hanzo was teasing him. He wouldn’t put it past the demon.

Instead, Hanzo had both hands — large, and sporting the sharp nails — on his hips now, pressing him forward. McCree turned a bit, and saw the grey skin of Hanzo’s true form, and felt the nails dig into his skin, but not hard enough to break it. McCree tried to jump when felt something long, warm, and moist run its way up from his balls to his hole, but Hanzo’s hands held him in place. It didn’t stop there, Hanzo’s tongue — it had to be his tongue — slipped inside him easily, and pushed far deeper than the demon’s fingers had gone.

McCree tried to think, had Hanzo’s tongue been this long when they had kissed? But he couldn’t muster the thoughts, instead hanging near off the edge of the tub as Hanzo delved further, twisting and turning within him, pressing and stretching him beyond his imagination.

The thrusting, and wriggling continued, not giving him any sort of rest, brushing against his walls. McCree was close, he was so close he was begging, loud and unashamed. For Hanzo to keep going, to bite him again, to touch his dick, to do anything. He was half hanging out of the tub, his flesh hand gripped the edge of the tub, the metal one was close to the floor, scrambling for any sort of purchase. He was so goddamn close, that when Hanzo pulled away — taking his tongue with him — McCree made a high, betrayed, and ultimately confused sound.

“You wanted to take this to the bed, didn’t you?” Hanzo murmured.

“Yeah,” McCree breathed out, but remained still. He hated it, the realization that Hanzo was right. He, unfortunately, didn’t have a five minutes or less recovery period. He’d probably be out for the night if he came right now, goddamn it. It wasn’t fair. “Give me a second. I gotta… Calm down a bit.”

After a few moments of pulling himself away from the edge, so to speak, McCree staggered out of the tub. He felt more oil, or was it Hanzo’s spit now, left over from the outside slip down his thighs. He turned to look at Hanzo, half glaring to see the demon looking far too smug and regal for someone sitting naked in a tub.

“I’ll be with you soon,” Hanzo called, as McCree wandered out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

He made a beeline for the bed, throwing himself on it, and rolling onto his back. He was still hard, but he wasn’t at risk of exploding any second like before. He grunted, throwing his cold metal arm over his eyes, and tried to think unsexy thoughts. Or just think of nothing, he’d settle for that as well.

He was going to last, he was going to give that smug, attractive demon a run for his money.

He breathed in, and out, repeating the process as he emptied his mind. After a minute or so of that, he wasn’t sure how long really, he felt… Better. More focused, and his dick had calmed down, finally.

McCree was curious though, and his free hand snuck down between his legs, slipping inside himself. Two fingers went in easily, and that’s all he needed as he gathered some of fluid up. 

Which was when Hanzo opened the door, when he had his fingers up his ass.

“Couldn’t wait for me?”

“Naw, was checkin’ somethin’.” McCree looked over the spit, the oil couldn’t have been this thick, rubbing it between his fingers. “Is your saliva usually this viscous?”

Hanzo hung in the doorway, one hand resting on his hip. “Usually.”

McCree narrowed his eyes at the demon. “... Are you some sort of sex demon?”

“Not necessarily,” Hanzo said with a laugh, and walked forward. “But thank you for the compliment. Are you ready round two?”

“I’ve been ready for a while, what took you so long?”

“Washed my hands, and my mouth. Dealt with myself in a far more satisfying manner than you did, I’m sure.”

“Fuckin’ five minutes or less.” McCree covered his face with his hand, only to jerk it away suddenly when he realized he just put demon saliva on it.

“Oh yes,” Hanzo purred, as stopped at the edge of the bed. He gave McCree another long appraisal, reaching out to grab McCree’s ankles. He spread the hunter’s legs, climbing onto the bed, and settled between them. “Do you have any expectations for this evening?”

McCree’s dick twitched at the casual way that Hanzo settled there, moving the hunter’s body as it pleased him. McCree could already tell the last few minutes of calming it down was about to go right out the window. “Like last night, where I can’t move so well ‘cause y’pinned me. Hopefully the bed lets y’get a better angle, ‘cause I want more.”

“Manhandle you, then?”

“Yes, please.”

Hanzo hummed, running his hands up McCree’s thighs, parting his legs further. He grabbed the hunter’s hips, and dragged him closer, casually slinging McCree’s legs over Hanzo’s thighs. He moved his dick so it lay beside McCree’s on the hunter’s abdomen, and gently started rutting against it.

McCree returned the favour, doing his best to shift his hips in time with Hanzo’s rhythm. He was a little distracted though, watching the way both of their dicks hardened beside each other. How they were similar, and their differences.

McCree knew his own dick well, but Hanzo’s… He had seen him flaccid at the chapel — what a sentence to have in his mind — but erect he was a different matter. He was proportional. Very proportional for the demon kneeling before him. The head was a darker shade of bluish-grey than Hanzo’s natural skin colour, but that made sense. From what he could feel against his skin, it was also ridged, but lower down, away from the head.

McCree wheezed. Hanzo said he wasn’t ‘necessarily’ a sex demon, but the hunter was starting to suspect.

“Like what you see?” Hanzo rumbled above him.

“Yes,” McCree nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from Hanzo’s dick. “I like a lot of you.”

“Oh?” Hanzo asked, and pulled away a distance, taking his cock with him. McCree whined slightly, but quieted down quickly when Hanzo’s thumb pressed against his balls. It trailed down from there, across his perineum until the thumb brushed against his hole. It pressed inside slightly, which he accepted it easily, a testament to how thorough Hanzo had been. Which had been good planning on both their parts, now that McCree saw how big the demon’s dick was. The hunter knew he was still wet too, due Hanzo’s strange demon saliva. “Keep going.”

“Your human form ain’t bad lookin’ at all,” McCree continued. The hunter stuttered a little bit when Hanzo spat into his hand, and slicked up his dick with it. Hanzo gave him a pointed look to keep talking, still moving his hand up and down his dick in McCree’s full view. “Y’caught my eyes, although I think that would of happened even if you had just been handsome, too.”

Hanzo wiped his hand off on the covers of the bed, and slung McCree’s legs over his thighs again. He grabbed McCree’s right hip, while his other hand guided his cock to McCree’s hole.

“Got a pair of pretty brown eyes,” McCree gasped out as he felt the head of the demon’s cock push its way inside. Hanzo moved his hand, one still gripping McCree’s hip, but the other moving under the hunter’s knee.

Hanzo rose to his knees, taking McCree with him until only his upper body touched the bed. The demon moved McCree’s left leg, getting it out of the way as Hanzo’s dick sunk in further into the hunter’s body.

McCree slapped his flesh hand over his mouth, and bit down on the meat of his thumb to keep himself from making several embarrassing noises. He didn’t know what to do with his other hand, and it ended up resting it against his chest. He whined around his thumb, watching Hanzo slowly press inside.

Hanzo stopped, and looked down at McCree. “No need to stop. Tell me more.”

McCree made a confused sound, before he remembered that he had been complimenting the demon. He moved his hand, sucking in a breath. “But. But your human form ain’t got nothing on your true appearance.”

Hanzo wasn’t so much sinking in as pulling McCree on his dick, and fuck if the hunter wasn’t loving it. He felt the first ridge press against his rim before slipping inside, and he had to take another moment before continuing.

“Gives, gives a hint, yeah, but,” McCree breathed in, and let out a shuddering breath. “But you’re gorgeous. From the tips of your horns to your toes.”

Hanzo rumbled above him, visibly preening.

“Powerful shoulders,” McCree keened. “Fantastic chest,” he moaned out. “Your biceps!” His voice jumped, feeling several more ridges slip in, rubbing against his insides, stretching him further.

Almost mercifully, because McCree wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to talk coherently soon, Hanzo stopped. He smiled, tilting his head. “Is that all?”

“Your cock is —!”

Hanzo purred, and pushed in a bit further to make a point. He had to be bottom out soon, didn’t he? “Is…?”

“Unreal. Fantastic. Gorgeous. To die for. Fuckin’ fantastic!”

Finally, finally McCree felt Hanzo’s hips against against his ass. Hanzo moved McCree’s legs to his waist, and McCree locked his legs around the demon. Hanzo placed his hands on McCree’s hips when he felt the hunter’s heels rested against the small of his back.

“You used fantastic twice,” Hanzo murmured, holding him there.

“Fuck me,” McCree spat out, both a curse and a plea.

Hanzo rumbled, deep in his chest, and fulfilled his promise. The thrusts started off slow, gentle, and methodical. There was no way he could miss, not with the way he filled McCree, and the ridges on his dick teased McCree’s hole in all the best ways.

The hunter could barely move with how Hanzo was holding him. Only his shoulders and head were on the mattress, and everything lower than that suspended by Hanzo above the bed. His hands gripped the sheets above his head as he moaned, and he heard his metal glove tear into the cloth. The casual ease that Hanzo held him, and manhandled him did things that McCree couldn’t quite explain at the moment. No one had ever done this with him before, everyone looked at his height, size, dick, occupation and just assumed he would top. This, this was new, this was exciting, this was pushing buttons he had never experienced before. 

It was mind blowing.

He made sure to tell Hanzo that.

In fact, he was pretty sure he was babbling again, praising the demon as Hanzo sped up the pace. Complimenting him for his strength, for his appearance, for his tattoos, for his sharp, sharp cheekbones. For the way he handled that vampire, how he had helped him, how he was too fucking gorgeous.

Hanzo purred, throwing his head back at the praise, but didn’t slow his pace at all.

McCree watched Hanzo’s face, before his gaze trailed downward, across the demon’s tattoo, chest, and stomach. Down to McCree’s own dick, bobbing with each thrust, dribbling pre-come into his stomach. It was obscene.

It only took a few more hard thrusts before McCree came, closing his eyes, crying out as come splattered across his stomach, and chest. He felt a few stray drops splash against his lips and beard. When he opened his eyes again, he found Hanzo leaning forward, forearms on either side of McCree’s head, curling the hunter in on himself, and still going.

The demon pressed a quick kiss to McCree’s mouth, licking up what had fallen there, but the hunter opened his mouth, aiming for something more. He was sloppy, he knew it, but Hanzo’s long tongue slipped out, and explored McCree’s mouth, delving deep. McCree moaned, and tried to suck on it.

They continued kissing, before Hanzo drew away from McCree’s mouth, and focused on his neck. He kissed and nipped his way down to the hunter’s shoulder.

“Mark me,” McCree panted. “You wanna, don’t you? Do it.”

Hanzo bit down on the meat of his shoulder, and McCree gasped. The demon gave one final thrust, sheathing himself completely again. McCree felt Hanzo come, a pulsing heat deep inside him, moaning long and loud. 

The demon sat back, allowing McCree to uncurl and relax, but didn’t pull out.

“... I don’t know if I can feel my legs,” McCree mumbled, flexing his hands, then flexing his toes. Good, both were working, but he was sure he wasn’t going to be walking any time soon.

Hanzo had the audacity to laugh, like it wasn’t primarily his fault. “I’ll take that as a compliment too.”

McCree groaned, and ran his hands down his chest, not quite avoiding his own come. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

“A hot one.”

“Aw, thank you, pumpkin. Still make me feel like I need a bath, though.”

“That can be arranged, would you like that?”

“Please, thank y’kindly.”

Hanzo pulled out, slow and careful. He didn’t leave right away, once again playing with McCree’s ass. He spread the hunter’s cheeks again, and used his thumb to press some of the still lingering oil and saliva into McCree’s sore hole. The hunter groaned, and Hanzo backed off the bed, leaving McCree spread eagled, and spent. McCree watched as he left, the way his back and ass moved as he walked.

“You don’t have a tail?” McCree called over the sound of running water.

There was a long pause, before Hanzo popped his head out of the bathroom. “That’s the question you ask now?”

“Seems like a valid one.”

“I don’t,” Hanzo answered, slipping out of the doorway again. There was some rummaging. “Not all of my kind do.”

“Ah.”

“Are you unhappy about that?”

“No. Just might’ve been cute with a tail.”

Hanzo returned to the room, wet towel in hand. “You are a very strange hunter.” He murmured, and gently ran the cloth over McCree’s chest and stomach to get rid of the worst of the mess.

“You may have fucked the brains outta me for a bit.”

“I hope they come back.”

“Me too,” McCree said, then yelped when Hanzo picked him up off the bed. He grinned, giddy again about how Hanzo could just lift a man of his size. Oh, he had to think of new ways for this to happen.

McCree looked back to the bed as Hanzo walked to the bathroom. Now that he had an elevated view, he could see the damage that was done. The bedclothes had tears in them, from the hunter’s metal hand, and the demon’s claws and talons. He suspected that the mattress wasn’t much better. So much for his promise not making a mess. “... Those sheets are a loss.”

“They can be paid for.”

“I think I got the room for free,” McCree pointed out, as Hanzo helped him into the tub. The demon didn’t join him this time, sitting on the floor outside of it. “Or did I get the breakfast for free?”

Hanzo shrugged, sticking his hands in the warm water. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll find out the answer tomorrow, see what I gotta pay for,” McCree muttered, closing his eyes. He breathed out, enjoying the water, and trying to gather his thoughts. They came together, piece by piece, just like the feeling in his legs. “Why aren’t you in the bath with me?”

“I want you to relax, and I may be too big for us to both be in there comfortably in this form.”

“Then go human again.”

Hanzo shook his head. “Don’t worry about.”

“Grab a chair at least. Kick my clothes off of that one.” He waved over to the chair in question.

Hanzo did so, dragging the chair over.

McCree closed his eyes again, relaxing once he was sure Hanzo was comfortable. When Hanzo’s finger brushed against his face, McCree opened his eyes and nuzzled against the hand. “Hey, come here often?”

Hanzo blinked, tilting his head. “Not often as I’d like. I hope to come many times more.”

McCree laughed, incredulous. “Really? That’s how y’answer?”

“What do you expect, with a question like that.”

“An honest answer!”

“An honest answer,” Hanzo parroted back, raising an eyebrow. “Fine. No, I don’t. As I said, I was planning on leaving the area soon, but the news of a hunter being hired kept me in town for longer. I’m glad I stayed, because the hunter turned out to be an exceptional human.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he’s handsome, capable, and not at all stupid like most hunters I’ve run into. At best, they seem the ‘kill, kill, kill’ variety without asking many questions, outside of how exactly to kill a being.”

McCree made a noise of agreement.

“So when an exceptional one crosses my path, that asks more than how to kill, who can’t help but be intrigued. Especially if they are open to other… Relations with those they are supposed to hunt.”

“Don’t run into those types too often?”

“You’re the first.”

“I find that hard to believe, with your face.”

“Oh, there have been those in the past who appreciated my human appearance, but were rarely so drawn in by my true one, as you were.”

“One of a kind?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t ask for anything less.”

McCree licked his lips, staring at Hanzo. He had been thinking about this since last night. Then, it had been more about looking forward to round two, which lived up to expectation. He thought about it more seriously they were walking back from the forest, with the new information to consider. McCree had almost forgotten what it was like to work with another person. He was picky with teaming up with other hunters, after working with his mentor and friends, for the same reasons Hanzo was leery of them. But working with Hanzo...

It was a long shot, but… It was important that he tried. “... Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I thought we worked well together.”

“We did, in many ways.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.” McCree reached up, and took Hanzo’s hand in his. “I was wonderin’… Did you wanna continue this, uh. Partnership? If you don’t have any other pressin’ business to deal with, I guess.”

Hanzo looked at him in surprise, and let out a little laugh. McCree sunk into the water, worry nipping at his heels. Did he make a bad call?

“I was going to ask you the same thing, Jesse,” Hanzo said, smiling as he gave McCree’s hand a squeeze.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, I am a wanderer, moving constantly to explore and see new places. I have been for some time, and it gets… Boring without a cause, or companion. And while I do have some business, it isn’t pressing.” Hanzo leaned over, and pressed a kiss to McCree’s temple. “And I meant what I said before, you are an exceptional hunter. If you are willing to have a demon as a partner, I will gladly join you. I am sure we’ll have many exciting hunts.”

McCree grinned. “I bet we will. I got somethin’ lined up in a few weeks, out east, so we can finish up this one and head on out. See how well we work together on other hunts, yeah?”

“I would like that.”

McCree, reinvigorated with the new turn of events, grabbed the cloth hanging from the faucet and scrubbed himself clean. He climbed out of the tub with little groaning, but he was definitely still sore.

“Was it your plan to make me feel this the next day?” He grumbled, making his way slowly to the bed. 

“It was… On my mind, since you recovered from the other night so easily.”

McCree couldn’t fault him, because that had been more or less what he wanted. To feel it. 

He stopped, and leaned against the bedpost as Hanzo stripped the sheets, dropping them off to the side. He realized that yes, there were some puncture marks in the mattress from his metal hands, but not as bad as it had been with the sheets.

“I, uh. I was pretty vocal wasn’t I?” McCree asked, already knowing the answer and dreading it, as he climbed onto the bed. Hanzo slid in behind him, and rested a hand on his hip.

“Yes?”

“... They probably heard me, didn’t they?”

“Potentially, but there is always a chance that they didn’t. The inn did not look very full, considering the attacks.”

McCree reached down, and pulled Hanzo’s hand off his hip and higher up to better wrap around him. He settled down, stretching out on the bed with a demon spooning his back. This… This was going to be a good sleep. “Let’s hope so.”

* * *

Rosie was giving him weird looks the entire time he talked to the mayor, actually appearing behind the bar that day instead of Sandra.

McCree woke up that morning to Hanzo making a spirited attempt at becoming an octopus. It had taken a few attempts, but the demon finally woke up and let him go. They had cleaned their gear, dressed, and McCree watched as Hanzo climbed out the window and down the side of the building. The hunter still felt it was unnecessary, but Hanzo had insisted, and he needed to pack.

McCree came downstairs to the common room, a little slower than usual. He hoped people assumed he had a good scuffle with the vampire instead of anything else. The townsfolk grabbing a late breakfast at the inn didn’t pay him any attention, but Rosie…

McCree was almost concerned that her room was near his, or something.

He ordered his breakfast, and asked one of the patrons leaving if they’d be so kind to fetch Mayor Nobbs for him. Then, he gingerly sat in at the table he had originally sat at a few nights ago, and waited.

His breakfast came first, Rosie finally meeting his eyes to stare at him suspiciously. McCree smiled at her, but that did nothing. If anything, that made her narrow her eyes more.

When she left, McCree made sure his collar and kerchief were in place to hide the bite marks, and dug into his food. He was still eating when the mayor walked in, trying very hard to not look like he just ran across the street.

“Hunter McCree!” Mayor Nobbs called, making his way over. “I was told you had news?”

Instead of answering outright, because of the toast in his mouth, McCree fished out the pouch of vampire teeth from a pocket, and tossed it on the table. He finished chewing, and nodded to the bounty. “Job’s done.”

Mayor Nobbs blinked, and opened up the pouch, nearly dropping them when the elongated fangs fell into his palm. He put them away quickly. “Of course! You were very fast.”

“The McCree Guarantee,” McCree said with a finger gun, and sipped his coffee. Not that it had been hard — once Hanzo was cleared, there was only really one thing left once he did the proper research. 

Mayor Nobbs seemed to be at a loss with the rhyming, but rallied well enough. “I’ll go get your payment, you won’t be — will you be staying much longer?”

“Nah, I’ll be heading out later. Just waiting for the payment of the service I did, and I gotta grab some supplies.” 

“Oh, of course. I can have a runner grab them for you, if you’d like to continue enjoying your breakfast,” Mayor Nobbs offered. Unsurprising they wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible, the sting faded long ago, but it was still a little inconvenient.

McCree listed everything he needed, and raised his cup in thanks as the Mayor scurried out. He took his time, just like the mayor suggested, and cleaned his plate. He returned the dishes to the bar, getting another look from Rosie, and climbed the stairs back to his room.

He gathered up his supplies and bags, and left a few coins behind, hopefully to cover the cost of the bedsheets and to repair the mattress. After another quick sweep of both rooms to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, McCree made his way to the stables.

“Hey, girl,” he cooed, patting Freckles. “I hope they treated you well, but we’re leaving now - heading to our next job, and I know how much you love the open road.”

The mare neighed, and McCree saddled her up, attaching his bags as he went. He didn’t climb into the saddle immediately, because he suspected he’d be walking part of the way just to work the soreness out. He didn’t need to make it worse.

When he rounded the corner to the main street, the mayor was there with his bag of supplies.

“Here you are, Hunter McCree,” Mayor Nobbs proclaimed, holding out the money pouch to McCree. “Oh, don’t worry about the supplies, Reg here will tie it on for you.”

The hunter watched the gangly teen add the supplies to his bags out of the corner of his eye, as he opened the money pouch, and carefully counted the coin inside. They had paid him the full amount promised, which was fantastic. He knew he had some repairs waiting for him at home, when he swung around to it.

McCree put the pouch away in his coat. He looked back to the mayor, and realized another audience had gathered while he had been counting. He wondered if he should be dramatic, spouting off about how the shadow over the town was gone, and they were safe.

Nah, that was a bit too much for him.

“Thank you,” he said, and tipped his hat to the crowd. Understated, probably for once in his life, his mentor probably would say if he saw McCree. Still the mysterious hunter though, and their trouble was truly gone, so it was a job well done.

He turned away, and walked down the street. It’d have been better if he had rode out of town, but he wasn’t going to do that right now, no way.

McCree didn’t walk for long until he found Hanzo, in his human form, with a horse and more supplies a little ways out of town. Just like they had planned that morning.

“Looking for a fellow traveller, partner?” McCree smiled, cheeky.

Hanzo fell into step beside him. “Yes, and I’m glad I found you, strange hunter.”

“No troubles getting out?”

“Ms. Ramkin was very sad to see me go, but understood. She said I was too young and handsome to stay with her, and she will think of our time as a blessing. She made me take these cookies.”

“Nice lady.”

“Very nice.”

“Well,” McCree said, looking up at the sky. “I hope I provide more excitement than Ms. Ramkin, or I’m sure you’ll be coming back.”

Hanzo laughed, “we’ll see. I look forward to my new partner, and any adventure that may face us.”

McCree looked over to the other man, and smiled. “I feel the same way, pumpkin.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back.
> 
> Please see updated tags. I'm especially proud of the necromancy pun. It's nothing too detailed, though.

It was barely dawn when McCree and Hanzo rode into the city, the first few rays of sun peeking out over the buildings and horizon. Their contact, the mayor, had requested the early meeting time, and that they hurried to the city hall to speak with him.

The mayor met them outside, at the back door of the building. He quickly took them to his office, expertly avoiding anyone from the night staff. Only when they were finally in his office, and he had locked the door behind them, did he introduce himself.

“Mayor Nutt,” he said, holding his hand out. McCree wondered if the man had even slept, but given his neatly parted hair, and his pressed well-tailored suit, he suspected that wasn’t the case. That, or Mayor Nutt was an unnaturally early riser. 

“Hunter Jesse McCree, and my partner, Shimada,” McCree shook the mayor’s hand and surveyed the room. A large desk and important looking chair sat before a large window. None of the morning light made it inside, however, due to the heavy curtains drawn shut. Bookshelves, stocked full and almost bursting with books and trinkets, lined the walls. 

He watched as Hanzo walked around the room, exploring the office with a intense focus. Ever since they started travelling together, McCree couldn’t help but be aware of everything Hanzo did. The way he moved, the way he spoke; he did it at with such purpose. It could be a little distracting, if McCree didn’t catch himself staring. 

Hanzo looked away from one of the shelves, and inclined his head to the mayor when the man looked to him, and Nutt nodded back. As Nutt spoke as he moved to sit behind his desk, waving to the chairs in front of it. “Thank you for coming so soon, although I was only expecting you, Mr. McCree…”

“My partner’s a new addition, and a very skilled one at that. Y’won’t regret it at all,” McCree assured him, sitting in the chair. Hanzo took the other one. “And if you’re worried ‘bout the fee, don’t. It hasn’t changed.”

“Thank you.” Mayor Nutt smiled, before his face fell, sighing. “Let’s get down to business, now I realize I was vague in the letter, but… This is a strange problem, something we haven’t dealt with before. Or at least, something that hasn’t been reported before.”

“Y’said as much with what y’wrote.”

“Yes, several bodies have been… Stolen. Six, in fact, from one of the graveyards in town.”

“Which one?” Hanzo asked. McCree leaned back in his chair, more than comfortable with letting Hanzo take over the questioning. If anything, it looked like it made the mayor sweat a little, being the target of Hanzo’s intensity.

“Elysium. It’s the wealthy one, where the successful business owners and old money bury their dead, should they choose not to send them home.”

“Do they know what happened?” Hanzo leaned forward, frowning slightly.

“No. I plan to notify them when we know what has happened to the bodies.”

“Any reason why y’don’t wanna tell them?” McCree sat up properly again, resting his hands on his knees. This wasn’t entirely new, McCree had clients in the past who made the same choice, but it was nice to know the reasoning each time. “Do y’expect them t’do somethin’?”

Mayor Nutt tapped his fingers against his desk. “Potentially as a nuisance, asking for results and putting unnecessary pressure when I’ve already hired the best. Needling both you and myself for any reason they see fit, and ultimately not helping in the slightest.”

McCree blinked at the bluntness of the answer. “Well. Alright then. We’ll mosey on down as soon as possible. Is there anythin’ else y’want us t’know?”

“Because of the nature of the job, and the fact that I would rather people not discover this breach in security…” Mayor Nutt trailed off, giving McCree a once over. He was an experienced politician, McCree could tell, because his expression didn’t change. The hunter knew they looked awful, having been on the road for a long time, covered in dust and dirt. “I hope you can be discreet? To not look like you’re a hunter on a job, because that may give away the fact that there’s a problem.”

“Can do discreet, don’t y’worry.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Nutt stood up, and paused. “Ah, yes, about your lodgings… Please, head to the Delphine Hotel, and tell them that you’re my guests. You’ll be well cared for, I assure you. It’s one of our nicer hotels.”

McCree nodded, standing with Hanzo. As they approached the door, Nutt called out to them.

“Please, take the route we took coming here. Try not to let anyone see you.”

Hanzo gave McCree an unimpressed look as they left.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy getting the room key. McCree expected some sort of push back when he claimed to be Mayor Nutt’s friend, but the staff was prompt, even showing them to the room on the fourth floor. They even unlocked the door before handing McCree the key, and left.

It was more service than he was used to, but Hanzo seemed at ease, so McCree tried not to let it bother him.

When they stepped into the room, McCree couldn’t help but whistle at the sight.

It was large room, with a big window standing opposite the door. A set of couches, along with a table between them sat under that window. Two doors on either side of the couches begged for further investigation, but a place as nice as this demanded the proper respect. McCree took off his dirty boots first, before heading to the door on the right.

The doors led to two different bedrooms, which were well furnished with sturdy, expensive looking wood furniture, and large, soft beds. They both also had bathrooms attached, McCree made sure to check both to confirm it. He stood in the middle of one of the bedrooms, hand clapped over his mouth as he tried to smother a laugh. This wasn’t the best room, this was the best set of rooms. McCree felt giddy, he was never treated this well.

He returned to the main room to see Hanzo standing at the window, peering out of the curtains.

“So what do you think?”

“Discretion has its perks,” Hanzo stated, letting the curtain drop as he turned to face McCree. “You’re ecstatic.”

“Usually the best rooms ain’t…” McCree trailed off, waving his hands in the air. He was excited, especially after all the time on the road. “They ain’t this. Or, the people give me money t’find my own room, and then expect it to be taken out of th’fee.”

“They want to pay you less when you’re potentially risking your life?” Hanzo said, incredulous. He walked to the front door, and locked it. As he made his way back to McCree, he shifted into his true form. McCree wondered if he’d ever get tired of it, watching as Hanzo transform. Probably not. Hopefully not.

McCree wondered if there was a strain, to maintained human form. They had been on the road, and camping, which wasn’t conductive to letting loose, so to speak. Did Hanzo feel better now, in relative safety and away from prying eyes?

Something to ask, when they weren’t on the job.

“What do y’think of th’mayor?” McCree asked, meeting Hanzo half way. He reached out, and took the demon’s hand. 

“While his statement of giving us time to work without pressure may have been sincere enough, I believe there’s more at play,” Hanzo murmured, looking at their hands. He turned his hand, so they were pressed palm to palm, and laced their fingers together. “I saw several pictures of him with members of the city, all of them well-dressed. I don’t know how many of them could have been considered ‘friends’, more likely patrons or backers for his power. Old money, and wealthy businessmen, as he said, which make up the members who would use that cemetery. I suspect if it got out that the bodies had been stolen, his backers would be very angry. Maybe even pull their support and money from him.”

“Nothin’ like trying to keep the people happy so you can stay in power,” McCree snorted. “But he seems trustworthy enough, and gave us these rooms.”

“True.” Hanzo brought their hands up to his chest. “I have a question for you.”

“Hrm?”

“Can you do discreet?”

“I can do discreet, don’t worry about it. I obviously won’t be wearin’ this. And we should probably clean up before we head out, make us look a little less like… Travellers.”

Hanzo made a noise of agreement, and turned to one of the bedrooms. As much as McCree wanted to follow, he knew they’d be much faster about getting the job done if they cleaned up seperately.

McCree headed to the other bedroom, excited at the thought of not one, but two bathtubs. Both with running water. He let out a quiet chuckle, he had never been in a place this nice before.

* * *

For McCree, discreet was ditching his coat, most of his weaponry, pulling his sleeve down over his gauntlet, and pulling the left hand glove from the depths of his bag. It’s a wonder he kept it at all, it never got much use. He still kept Peacekeeper at his side, because that wasn’t too unusual, even in a big city like this. Hanzo left his bow and quiver behind, but carried several knives on his person.

All in all, they appeared relatively normal, if new faces.

The cemetery was a distance from their hotel and the city centre, a little too far to go on foot without wasting a good portion of their day, so they took their horses. McCree whistled when they approached it, it was as nice as the mayor suggested.

Even this far out of the way, they spared no expense with aesthetics. A wrought iron fence surrounded it, with only one gate in and out on the north side. There was a well maintained chapel closer to the entrance, and a number of mausoleum entrances in the back from what he could see. The grass was well cared for, and there were several flowers and a handful of strategically placed trees.

They tied up their horses to the fence, and McCree stuck his thumbs in his belt, surveying the area as they approached the gate. “So, you wanna do the talkin’ or should I?”

Hanzo gave him a flat look as he held open the gate for McCree. “I’ll examine the perimeter. You can talk to the caretaker.”

“Figured as much,” McCree said with a smile, and headed for the chapel. He knocked before he tried the handle, and found the building unlocked. Chasing away the thoughts of what he did the last time in a chapel like this, McCree peered inside. “Caretaker Shoe?” He called, his voice carrying across the empty room.

There was a crash, and a loud yelp from a side room. A man came limping out a few moments later, favouring his right foot. He was taller than Hanzo in his human form, but not by much. He was also gangly, like he never quite grew into his body. He spoke as he walked to McCree, who lingered by the door.

“Apologies, I didn’t know we had any visitors today…” The man trailed off, giving McCree a once over. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“And here I thought I was inconspicuous,” McCree snorted, and held out his hand. “Hunter McCree, at your service.”

“Caretaker Shoe, but you already knew that,” Shoe shook his hand, before shaking his head. “No, you’re inconspicuous, but that’s the problem. Most of our patrons are more affluent, and dress as much. You’re… Not. No offense. Plus I can see your arm glowing through your sleeve.”

“None taken. But, what? Really?” McCree paused, looking down at his arm, and cursed. The shirt still wasn’t dark enough to hide the telltale warm orange glow of his gauntlet. Well, too late to worry about it now, it would be something to fix later. With a sigh, he returned to the task at hand. “So the mayor told me y’got a bit of a problem here.”

“Oh, yes. You’re earlier than I expected, and no one bothered to tell me you got here!”

“Just rode in this mornin’, came as soon as I was able.”

Shoe puffed out his cheeks. “Still enough time for someone at the office to send a runner. No respect, I swear. Here, let’s go outside. I’ll show you the graves.”

The caretaker led McCree to the back of the cemetery, where the small mausoleums were, along with several graves in between them.

They stopped in front of a headstone, with a heavy canvas tarp pulled across the ground in front of it. Caretaker Shoe pulled the tarp away, revealing an open grave.

McCree peered inside, and frowned when he saw the coffin, lid smashed open and nothing inside.

“Any more like this?”

“No, it’s just the first one we noticed, because they were so obvious about it.” Shoe sighed, despondent. He let the tarp drop, and waved his hand towards the mausoleums. “Once we found this, we checked over the entire cemetery. They broke into one of those, almost have it entirely cleared out.”

“Which one?”

“The Rust Family, I’m thankfully none of them have died recently, they don’t bother showing up unless one of their ilk needs to go into the family vault,” Shoe crossed his arms over his chest. “They’d be livid to find out some of their bodies are missing.”

“Y’haven’t told them?”

Shoe laughed. “No,” he said, emphatically. “The patriarch is an idiot, wouldn’t understand what happened. Plus the mayor was very clear we shouldn’t tell anyone until we know what happened, and have it dealt with. They’d breath down our necks otherwise, but the mayor’s doing a pretty good impression of them right now, anyway, so it’s not like I’m losing any of the fun.”

“Do y’think it could’ve been targeted attack on the family?” McCree asked. If the caretaker wanted to vent, McCree was more than happy to let him. It would save McCree a trip, and Shoe was right, the mayor had made it very clear he didn’t want anyone letting the public know.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, but no, I don’t think so. They only went after the freshest bodies.” Shoe paused. “In terms of decay, I mean. The ones they left behind are skeletons, or ashes. Not much meat on them, I’m afraid. If it were some sort of grudge, I think they’d go back as far as they could.”

“Y’mind if I take a look?”

“No, of course not. Go ahead, the door’s unlocked,” Shoe waved him off, staring down at the open grave with a frown.

McCree headed for the mausoleum. It was well maintained, but he figured that the patrons wouldn’t pay for anything less than perfection. Some vines grew up the outside, but along a trellis. There was a closed iron gate, in front of a sturdy door. A heavy duty chain hung from the gate, complete with an impressive looking lock. Despite the thickness of the chain or the strength of the lock, whoever broke into the building circumvented both entirely by ripping the hinges for the gate straight out of the stone of the mausoleum.

McCree snorted. That was a clever way to do it.

He opened the gate, and crouched down at the door. There were scratches around the keyhole, whoever picked this lock hadn’t been discreet about it, but McCree suspected they either didn’t care, or didn’t figure people would check. Apparently, not many people came by for a visit to the cemetery if the break in hadn’t been discovered until now.

Even more so for this Rust family, from how Caretaker Shoe spoke of them.

McCree opened the door, and stepped inside the mausoleum. It had a few steps downwards to the main floor. He left the door open for illumination, and explored.

He noted the dust patterns on the floor, where it was disturbed - and where it wasn’t - showed him how little people checked inside, which made it a good target for theft. The tracks looked like human boots, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Hanzo’s natural taloned feet fit well in his human form’s knee high boots.

McCree pulled his neckerchief up over his mouth, and checked the coffins. Those closer to the front - probably the fresher ones as the caretaker stated - were missing bodies. Given the wear and tear he found inside the coffin told him that whoever stole them wasn’t particularly kind or patient. In the coffins further back, he found bodies in further states of decay, as well as some urns with cremated remains. He assumed, anyway. He wasn’t going to poke around those.

Instead, he turned to the floor again. The slab was well crafted, no visible breaks or cracks. The walls were similar, the bricks and mortar expertly laid. No holes.

McCree sat back on his haunches, frowning under his neckerchief, and stood up. He walked back out, brushing down his pants, to find Caretaker Shoe leaning against a gravestone and staring at the chapel.

“Y’never heard th’break in? Rippin’ a gate open ain’t quiet.”

“I don’t live here, and it happened overnight. I didn’t notice it until it was too late.”

“Any night guards?”

“We have one. This is the first instance of grave robbing in our city, Mr. McCree. People generally don’t want to steal the dead. From the dead, maybe, but it’s pretty obvious here that there isn’t anything to take. Even the Rusts aren’t stupid enough to line their coffins with money. They want a nice place to stick them, but all our money goes into maintaining the grounds and chapel.”

McCree shook his head, and tilted towards the open grave. “So if the mausoleum were th’Rusts, who is this?”

“A wealthy businessman’s spinster aunt. Probably put her here out of guilt.”

“What makes you say that?” No connection between the victims, so it probably wasn’t a targeted attack as Shoe suggested. 

“When people bury their dead here, they’re trying to prove a point about how wealthy they are, or guilty they couldn’t do more for their family in life.”

McCree gave Shoe a sidelong glance. “I’m gettin’ th’impression y’don’t like people.”

“I don’t like living ones. Dead ones are fine, they don’t talk much. I enjoy silence.”

“How do you close up at night? Any procedure?” Hanzo asked suddenly, sneaking up on the both of them while they stared down at the open grave.

McCree started, but Shoe yelped, and jumped. The caretaker pitched forward off the gravestone, and would have landed in the open grave if McCree hadn’t grabbed him before he lost his footing any further. 

“Whoa there,” McCree murmured, helping Shoe right himself. “Seems like my partner caught you by surprise there, sorry ‘bout that.”

“No, no, that’s fine. I did say I like silence, I should be used to it suddenly breaking,” Shoe laughed slightly, and turned to Hanzo. “Sorry, what was your question?”

“What procedures do you have for closing up at night?” Hanzo repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I lock the gate, and we have a nightwatchman. He patrols the grounds regularly during the night, and when he isn’t, he’s on the chapel’s porch, watching over the main gate. Also the police have a beat that swings by here.”

“Only swings by? Doesn’t circle?” Hanzo asked.

“It doesn’t circle, sadly. I wonder if I could ask…” Shoe trailed off, staring into middle distance with a frown. He blinked, and turned to look at McCree. “I just realized, Mr. McCree. I may have said this was the first grave robbing, but I forgot about a previous attempt.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, she didn’t get far with the body however, and this was at another cemetery in the city, so I forgot about it. They passed around her information, and a picture in her likeness in case she tried again at another place when she posted bail.”

“Y’got that information still?”

“It should be in my desk, if you’d like to follow me,” Shoe walked quickly towards the chapel.

McCree raised an eyebrow at Hanzo, who shrugged and waved him off. With a shake of his head, McCree followed Shoe into the chapel, and to the caretaker’s office. It was clean, and well organized, so Shoe had little trouble finding the information he needed.

“Here, you’re lucky I kept it and didn’t throw it out. Her name was Penelope, and when she was caught, she started yelling about how she needed the body for science and they were stopping her from doing good work.” Shoe frowned, holding the sheet of paper out to McCree. “So, take what you will from that.”

“And she posted bail?” McCree looked over the information. The address shouldn’t be too hard to find, assuming the woman hadn’t moved. The picture attached was black and white, and not very good, if McCree was going to admit it, but the woman in it was… Sullen.

“Someone else came in and got her out, surprisingly. This was more than six months ago, at least, so I don’t know how relevant it is.”

“Any information is good information. If anythin’, we can make sure she’s not a suspect. Could I have the name of your nightwatchman as well? Need t’be thorough.” McCree said with a smile.

“Leggy.”

“... Leggy?”

“It’s short for something, I’m not sure what, but he goes by Leggy. A nice man, almost enjoys working here as much as I do. Probably for the same reason as me - the dead are nice and quiet.”

“... Does Leggy have a last name?”

“Oh yes, it’s Biers.”

They wrapped up their conversation, and McCree left Shoe to his work. When McCree got to the entrance of the cemetery, he found Hanzo at the gate. “What do y’think, Pumpkin?”

“There was no damage done to the fence, or this gate,” Hanzo held open the gate again, following McCree as they left. “I also took a look inside the grave while you were inside with the caretaker.”

“Oh?”

“We aren’t dealing with ghouls.”

“Thankfully,” McCree muttered.

“Don’t like them?”

“They’re incredibly hard to kill, and always travel in packs? What’s not t’love,” McCree swung into his saddle, frowning. “Their savin’ grace is that they’re usually live and let live with people, and can sorta talk.”

Hanzo hummed, swinging into his saddle along side McCree. “This is true. There was no potential hole to their warrens in the grave, unless it was somewhere else…”

“Naw, nothin’ in the mausoleum, plus they wouldn’t’ve dislodged the gate that methodically. We’re probably dealin’ with some humans, probably a necromancer, as far as we know.”

“And an inside job. What do you think of the caretaker?”

“Naw. Likes his job well enough, and prefers th’dead to the livin’. Would be self-sabotagin’ t’steal bodies.”

“So, it narrows down our suspects then. The nightwatchman, and this previous attempt?”

“Yeah, let’s visit th’woman first, and we can swin’ back around here if we need t’later.”

* * *

“This wasn’t what I was expectin’,” McCree murmured to Hanzo, as they both stood across the street from the address. He double checked the piece of paper, and couldn’t help but laugh.

It was a well maintained townhouse, sandwiched in the middle of a long row of them. Every single one of them were well taken care of, including the window baskets filled to the brim with flowers and herbs. Apparently, the owners of the homes aimed to make the best of what little green space they had.

They were in one of the better neighbourhoods.

“It’s curious the necromancer chose to live in such a crowded city, they usually prefer quiet.” Hanzo said, giving the home a once over.

“Have a long history with necromancers?”

“One. A German man of some little infamy. He accidentally summoned me.”

“Y’got summoned?”

“Of a sort. I didn’t appear in the middle of a circle, if that’s what you're concerned about. I merely felt a pull I couldn’t ignore. I assume I was the closest of my kind around. He wanted some information, but I didn’t have the answers he wanted.”

“Huh,” McCree turned that thought over in his head, before filing it away. Something to be researched later, onto the business at hand. He nudged Hanzo’s arm, smiling. “Let’s go.”

They approached the doorsteps. Hanzo took post at the bottom of the stairs, leaning casually against the railing, and definitely not looking like he was watching the street for threats. McCree gave him a quick, appreciative smile. He was grateful of how Hanzo stepped up and covered his blindsides, allowing him to work with little worry.

McCree breathed in, and out, before slipping on a friendly smile and knocking on the door.

It took a few moments, but the door opened to reveal a short middle aged woman with red hair and a round face. She gave McCree a once over, and he saw her flick her eyes towards Hanzo quickly, before focusing back on him.

She smiled. “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Howdy, ma’am, my name’s McCree, and that’s my partner, Shimada,” McCree said, waving towards his partner, trying to keep his hands as far away from his weapons as possible. He wanted to be as non threatening as possible. “I was wonderin’ if a Penelope Havaleth was livin’ here.”

The woman was still smiling, but the moment McCree had said the name, her smile changed. It was a sharper, showing a little more teeth. He had seen the same smile in the mirror enough times to know what it was. It was less sincere, and he knew with certainty that she was less than happy to see him now.

“I don’t know why you would think that,” she said, still sounding cheerful and polite.

“I was told by a trusted source that someone by that name might live here.”

“No one by that name lives here. Where’d you get the information?”

“I can’t tell you that, ma’am.” McCree spread his hands. He saw her zero in on the glow from his gauntlet making its way through his shirt. Damn, he really needed to come up with a solution for that. “We need to speak to her, however, if anything to clear her name.”

The woman frowned. “Clear her name?”

McCree looked to Hanzo, who shrugged. He turned back to the woman. “Can I know your name, ma’am?”

“Doreen.”

“Miss Doreen, I’m tellin’ you somethin’ in utmost confidence. You gotta promise not to tell anyone else.”

Doreen gave him a reproachful look. “I promise I won’t tell.” Her implied ‘I never tell’ hung on to the end of that sentence. 

“Someone’s been stealin’ bodies.”

There was no visible change to Doreen’s expression this time, but that was all the information that he needed. He hoped, anyway. She looked to Hanzo again, then back to McCree. Doreen opened her door fully, and walked further in.

Hanzo walked up the steps to stand beside McCree. “We’re being invited in.”

“Without expressly being invited in. Huh.” He wondered about this woman, a little bit.

They walked inside, and closed the door behind them. Doreen watched them carefully, before she sniffed, and motioned to the couches in the sitting room. 

“So, you know where this Penelope is?” McCree asked, making his way to sit.

“You meant Penny. I never hear anyone call her ‘Penelope’. It makes her sound stuck up.”

McCree nodded, playing along with the game that the woman had started. That wasn’t the truth. Of course this woman knew Penelope’s full name, considering she lived here too.

“Where is she?” Hanzo asked, sitting on the armrest.

“Upstairs, still sleeping. She had a late night,” Doreen said, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll go get her. You have nothing to worry about though - she didn’t do it.”

Doreen disappeared upstairs, leaving McCree and Hanzo look around.

The house was as nice on the inside as it was on the outside. It was homely, well lived in, and very clean. McCree was sure he didn’t see a speck of dust on any surface, which only made him wince at what sort of state his home was. He really should return soon, or else Sombra might do something awful to it in his absence.

Shelves lined the walls, full of books and knickknacks. On closer inspection, the books ranged from cooking to law titles. On the left, there was a wide doorway leading to the kitchen, and another closed door, set beneath the stairway. He could only assume that it led to the basement or a closet.

“This ain’t th’home of a necromancer.” McCree murmured.

“Some are well known for their housekeeping,” Hanzo said, “if anything to avoid having people assume they aren’t what they appear to be.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” Doreen said, appearing at the end of the stairs. “Penny’ll be down in a minute, she just needs to wash her face. Would you like tea, coffee, or water? Cookies?”

McCree and Hanzo glanced at each other, before McCree nodded. “Sure, whatever you’re willin’ to make, thank you.”

“I would like some tea, ma’am,” Hanzo said.

Doreen disappeared into the kitchen, but they weren’t left alone for long when another woman came stumbling down the stairs, wrapped up in a housecoat and her black hair tied back in a messy bun. She was tall, McCree could tell, almost as tall as him. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she stared at the two of them blearily for a few moments, before sitting down on the couch opposite of them.

“Is Dori getting coffee,” she asked, her eyes flicking down to McCree’s concealed gauntlet.

“Yes,” Hanzo answered.

“Fantastic!” She clapped her hands. “So, what do you want?”

“I assume you’re Penelope?”

She made a face. “Only my grandmother called me that. People call me by my last name, or Penny. But yes, that’s me. Dori said you had a question?”

McCree doubted that Doreen hadn’t told her what the question was. “Some bodies have been stolen from a cemetery in the city. Someone suggested that you could have somethin’ t’do with it - any idea why?”

“‘Cause I’m a necromancer, but I didn’t do it. I haven’t tried to steal anything since the last time.”

McCree took the blunt confession of being a necromancer in stride. “And th’last time…?”

“Was because I needed a body for science?”

“Science.”

“Yes. I like to believe that’s what necromancy is for.”

“You’re very calm for someone stating that they are a necromancer,” Hanzo cut in.

“I have nothing to hide,” Penelope met Hanzo’s eyes steadily, scowling, before meeting McCree’s eyes as well, and refused to break eye contact for a solid two minutes. She was either an accomplished liar, or blunt and truthful. McCree suspected it was the latter - very few people actually claimed to be a necromancer, not when there could be pitchforks and fire involved.

Penelope crossed one leg over the other, breaking eye contact, and looking towards the kitchen. “Also, if you were any sort of law enforcement or someone with ill intent you probably would’ve kicked down the door instead of sitting here all nice waiting for coffee.”

“Even so,” Hanzo said.

“And I haven’t done anything. I’ve been the very picture of a model citizen.”

“Who is a necromancer.”

She shrugged, and threw her hands up in the air when Doreen walked through the kitchen doorway. “Coffee!”

“I made some sandwiches as well,” Doreen said, placing a tray down. It was littered with small sandwiches, cookies, and vegetables. Around the plates were three mugs of what McCree assumed was coffee. “I don’t know how you take your drinks, so there’s a few extra saucers for that. Also, I hope you like the tea, Mr. Shimada.”

When everyone was situated with their drinks and food - McCree, perhaps a little shamefully, waited until he saw Penny stuff a sandwich in her mouth before he took one of his own, although in his defense he had been poisoned before - the conversation started again.

“You haven’t done anythin’ since th’first time?”

“She’s been too busy with work,” Doreen said.

“Yeah, and after I got bailed out the first time, there were other avenues I could take.”

“You got caught because you had no upper body strength and you didn’t want to work out,” Doreen stated.

“And,” Penny raised her voice, trying to drown out any other comments Doreen may have made. “We came up with some very good rules.” Penny started counting off on her fingers. “No people corpses, if I do it I have to let Dori know so she can help and provide an alibi, and if something goes wrong, we have to kill it again. No waffling and letting it get out on the street.”

“... Has that happened before?” McCree asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but it seems like a good idea to plan for it just in case? You never know. Why do you want to know anyway?”

“I’m a hunter.”

Penny and Doreen frowned.

“Are you sure? You didn’t set the house on fire.” Penny said, suspicious.

“Brick is hard to set on fire, maybe he came inside to do it? We do have a lot of books.” Doreen pointedly looked at the various bookshelves that lined the room.

“I’m not here t’set anythin’ on fire,” McCree said, putting his drink down. “I’m investigatin’. I was pointed this way because of your failed grave robbin’, but it’s given how open your bein’, y’don’t strike me as our guy. But, t’double check, what were y’doin’ a week ago, durin’ the night?”

“Sleeping.”

“I can vouch for her.”

“Right, I figured.” McCree turned to Hanzo, and smiled. “We got another lead t’look at then, right?”

Penny stood up suddenly. “Do you want to see my lab? I can make that ‘probably’ a definite no.”

Hanzo and McCree glanced at each other quickly, before the hunter nodded. He didn’t think the lab would be in the home - keeping dead bodies usually involved a lot of extra space and specific vents and airways. This was a townhouse, even if they somehow had the money to do the extra renovations, it would be harder to hide it from any neighbours. This was good though, because it would help the search if they had to come back later. “... Sure?”

Penny turned, and headed to the door under the stairs. As McCree suspected, it opened to a staircase that went down to the basement. Penny hurried down the steps, holding her housecoat up so she didn’t trip. McCree glanced behind him, and saw Doreen cleaning up their meal from the table. 

“It’s safe,” Doreen said. “Worse you can get is a broken neck if you fall down the stairs.”

That wasn’t creepy at all, but McCree held onto the bannister nonetheless as he walked down. Hanzo joined him a few moments later, eating a small sandwich he probably snatched up before Doreen could clean.

The basement was lit by the time he and Hanzo reached the bottom of the stairs, and if the upstairs wasn’t indicative at all that there was a necromancer, the basement gave a bit of a bigger hint. One wall was lined with books, and tables full of science supplies. The opposite wall had a large terrarium/aquarium against it, which was full of… Crabs, and a lobster.

“These are my babies, the animals’ I’ve risen. Except for one, but she’s probably hiding. Takes awhile to get used to new people, lemme see if I can…” Penny trailed off, checking under the tables.

“You raised crabs?” McCree asked, this wasn’t what he was expecting from someone claiming to be a necromancer. Even the nicer ones he’d heard about were still focused on raising people.

“Yes,” Penny said, fishing something out from behind a cabinet. “And this chicken.” She turned around, showing the chicken skeleton in her arms. It had some fine wires wrapped around each bone, holding it in place as the creature turned its head to look at them. “Priscilla was my first attempt - she’s an old lady now, most of her skin and muscles have sloughed off - it was gross, and Dori was pissed when she found it got on the nice carpet. I had to wire the bones together because while the magic animates them, it doesn’t always keep it together.”

She nodded towards the crabs. “They were a little easier, with their exoskeletons. They don’t really care if the meat inside them is gone, but gosh it’s a mess to get out when it smells.”

“Some of these books are illegal,” Hanzo casually observed, reading the titles of the books on the shelves.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about that. That’s mostly research and theoretical stuff. I try to hold on to them to make sure that other, less savoury folks don’t get them. At least I know how to treat them properly.” Penny said with a sniff, and put Priscilla down on the ground.

“I see. So you haven’t done anything within these books?” 

“Not… Practically. It’s fun to think about, but it’d be too much of a mess in here, much less the city. We’d have to move somewhere else, like the countryside, but I don’t want to go back there, and Doreen’s a city girl at heart. I’m fine right here, raising animals.

“Although it would be nice to perfect the way to make flesh grow back, or keep it from decaying… If anything, to give Priscilla back some mobility and fun.”

McCree stared at Penny, and lifted his hat, scratching his hair in thought. “I figure this further proves that you had nothin’ t’do with the grave robbin’. Y’really don’t want any bodies?”

“Not if I’m living in a city, that’d be way too noticeable. And since I never plan on moving away…” Penny trailed off, shrugging. “So I’m clear?”

“Yeah, thanks for taking th’time to talk t’us.”

“Of course! Anything to clear my name. Shame they haven’t forgotten about me yet. Maybe in another two years!” Penny made her way up the stairs. “Can we get you anything before you go? Doreen made too many cookies.”

“Aw, naw, we don’t wanna trouble y’none.”

“It’s no trouble,” Penny insisted.

Doreen stepped out of the kitchen, as if on cue, holding a neatly wrapped bag. She placed them in Hanzo’s hands, pushing his arms back to him. “Take them, and we’ll keep an ear out for any more information.”

“The cookies’ll help keep your energy up for research.” Penny said, and started herding them away from the kitchen.

McCree was taken aback by her smile. It was a little too sharp, not unlike Doreen’s once he had asked for Penny. “Yeah, sure. I’ll think about it.”

“Excellent! I’ll see you out.” She walked them to the door, looking pleased with herself. She held open the door to them, and waved enthusiastically as they walked out. “See you! Good luck, Hunter McCree, and Mister Demon!”

McCree and Hanzo whipped to look back at the door, but all they saw was Penny’s wide, smug smile for a sliver of a second before the door was shut in their face. They stood on the street outside, looking back at the closed door. McCree looked away first, to the cookies in Hanzo’s arms. “That was weird.”

“An understatement. Nice of them not to fight us.”

“I’m sure they’re sayin’ the same about us, pumpkin. How did she know…?” It was a little worrying. He had his eye to tell him something was off about Hanzo when they had first met. Even then it didn’t tell him exactly what Hanzo was. Was she just making an educated guess? Had she interacted with demons in the past?

Summoning demons for power or information wasn’t a new thing, not by a long shot. 

Hanzo shrugged. “Some people can see, you did, didn’t you?”

“Hm,” McCree mused, still staring at the door. If their other lead turned out out to be useless, they might have to come back here.

“We’ll talk to the nightwatchman at the cemetery then?”

“Yeah, but since he’s got a night shift… We got time to kill until we can see him.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I was thinkin’ we could go back to the hotel room, and take a nap. We came in awful early, and sleepin’ rough is nothin’ compared to the beds we saw in there, yeah? Plus, we don’t know what sorta night we’re gonna have after talkin’ t’th’nightwatchman.”

Hanzo eyed McCree, and nodded. “All good points. Shall we?”

* * *

McCree folded his clothes neatly, placing them on the dresser. He turned, surveying the room. It was just as nice as earlier, all solid oak furniture, with a four poster bed. McCree wished there was a canopy, simply to have one. The dark curtains on the window already did a great job blocking out the sun, given how well made they were. There was a weight to them, as McCree discovered when he pulled them shut. Nothing to interrupt their afternoon nap. 

Speaking of nap...

McCree made his way to the bed, where Hanzo lay already. The demon had shed his human appearance the moment they had locked the door behind them, and undressed far faster than McCree had. He took up a good portion of the bed in his true form, which was a feat, given how big the bed was.

As McCree approached, Hanzo lifted up the sheets, beckoning him even closer. McCree crawled under the covers, and there were a few moments of shifting, until they both found a position they were comfortable with. Hanzo on his back, McCree laying at his side, resting his head on Hanzo’s chest.

McCree’s gaze wandered up the line of Hanzo’s body, from his talons under the sheets to his face, eyes closed and ready for a nap. He smiled at the intimacy. It had been a very long time he had been this close to someone in such a casual way. Looking at him like this reminded McCree of his earlier questions, and… Now seemed a good a time as any, right?

“Does it hurt, or… I don’t know, itch? If y’stay in human form for awhile?”

Hanzo opened his eyes, and looked to McCree. “Pardon?”

“I was wonderin’, since it ain’t exactly a glamour, y’know? So it’s not like you’re maskin’ your form, you do take up different spaces - human you is definitely shorter. I’ve spoken to some werewolves and other shapeshifters before, and their stories vary from person t’person. Some say they don’t feel good if they don’t change after a bit, or maintain the other form for too long, while others are fine with either one. I was wonderin’ where y’stood.”

Hanzo blinked slowly, and closed his eyes again. “A good question. It’s not painful to maintain my human form, and I have no time limit for it. However…”

Hanzo was silent for a few moments, and McCree worried he had fallen asleep. “Hanzo?”

“I apologize, I’m trying to find the right explanation. You know when you wear formal clothing, or your uniform?” Hanzo waved towards McCree’s coat, hanging from the rack on the wall. “You’re comfortable in them, they’re yours, and you’ve worn them a long time. Even so, you still enjoy undressing at the end of the day, and ending up in something more comfortable. That’s what it feels like for me.”

McCree chuckled. “Now I know y’don’t mean it, but y’make it sound like bein’ in your true form is like bein’ naked.”

“Perhaps not the best analogy, since I’m sure you don’t immediately get naked when you return home, but yes. It’s more comfortable, but the human form isn’t anything difficult for me.”

McCree ran his fingers up Hanzo’s chest, before throwing his arm over the demon’s torso. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’ll probably be askin’ you a lot of questions in the future. You’re… Amazin’.”

“So long as I can ask you questions as well, dear hunter.”

McCree cuddled closer, sleep nibbling at the edges of his mind. This was nice, intimate, and peaceful. They had the road to themselves for the most part on their ride here, which let them get to know each other better, but McCree found it lacking. They asked questions - previous jobs, and of places they visited, among other things. Good get to know you questions, nothing too probing. They had also made out, and more, but it was always quick and dirty. While travelling, they could never be sure if someone was going to stumble in on their camp, no matter how hard they maybe have tried to hide it. They slept near each other then too, but it wasn’t the same as this moment. With a large and comfortable bed, and most importantly, privacy. He hoped they could stay a bit longer after this job was done, if only for the privacy this room gave. He had so many ideas of what he wanted to do with Hanzo.

McCree smiled, giving Hanzo a quick squeeze. He could get used to this.

Shame they were on a timetable, even if this one allowed naps.

* * *

McCree woke up, and despite knowing he should be well rested with how solidly he slept, he felt groggy. He lifted his head from the middle of Hanzo’s chest, having moved further on top of the demon during his sleep. He didn’t know if he had made the unconscious decision, or if Hanzo had helped in some way.

It could be both, but he suspected it was more of the latter, given how Hanzo’s hands were on his ass.

McCree disentangled himself, earning a displeased rumble from Hanzo when he moved the demon’s hands, and climbed out of bed. He made his way to the window, and peered out from the curtains - still light out, but it looked to be approaching sunset. A quick peek at the clock confirmed it. They had slept for a few hours, but they really should start getting ready if they wanted to get to the cemetery in time to speak with the nightguard.

Although, when McCree turned back to the room, and saw Hanzo stretched out on the bed, as comfortable as anyone could be, he was tempted. The way Hanzo ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly, trying to fix any bedhead. The way the bedsheets pooled around his waist - it wouldn’t take too much effort to pull them lower. Or he could just climb back in, and go to sleep for a bit longer, push the timetable back. The nightwatchman was going to be there all night, it was in the job title.

McCree puffed out his cheeks, and shook his head. He didn’t know if there was anyone else in the world that could tempt him that much, but… No, he had a job, and he prided himself on his professionalism. He was sure Hanzo felt the same way, with how seriously he took their previous and current hunt.

The desecration of that chapel notwithstanding. 

“Time t’wake up, pumpkin!”

“You’re cheerful,” Hanzo murmured, pulling the bedsheets away, and climbed out of bed. McCree paused for a moment, just to watch.

“I just woke up from a fantastic nap in th’arms of a handsome demon, what don’t I have t’be cheerful about? Come on, I’m sure we’ll wrap this case up quickly, and then… Well, who knows what’ll happen,” McCree said with a wink.

“I’m sure you have some idea.”

“Of course, there should be some sort of tourist spots ‘round here we could see.”

“I know you’re joking.”

“Worth a shot.”

They dressed quickly, and as they made their way into the main room, McCree walked over to his saddlebags, and sorted through it.

“What are you doing?”

McCree looked up from tying the sleeves of an extra shirt together. “I’m makin’ a sling.”

“... Why?” Hanzo asked, standing by the door. He was already back in his human form, and as much as McCree appreciated both forms, because Hanzo was a looker in either, he missed the true form.

“Since everyone kept seein’ my arm through my discreet disguise, I thought of a new way t’hide it.” McCree put the sling on, and tucked his gauntlet into it. Hopefully the shirt was dark enough to keep the glow from slipping through, like it had with his other shirt. “See anythin’?”

“Not at all,” Hanzo said, tilting his head. “A clever solution.”

“Wish I had thought of it sooner. People don’t usually ask for discreet. Or at least the level of discreet that th’mayor is expectin’.”

Hanzo snorted. “I still feel his reasons for discretion are significantly more self serving than he said, but that’s to be expected with a man in his position.”

“Y’seem to have a problem with him, any reason why?”

Hanzo hummed. “Not necessarily a problem with him, but with his method. To be so swayed by a group of people that only have their own interests at heart leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It has for some time now.”

“Sounds like a story. Run into it often?”

Hanzo chuckled lowly. “A few times. It’ll be a story for another time, I suspect.”

“I look forward to it. Always interested to learn more about you, Pumpkin.”

“And I, you.”

It was dusk when they made their way back to the cemetery, which Caretaker Shoe had assured them that the guardsman would be there by then, just starting his shift.

He was, and they hung back, watching him for a time. He didn’t move from his post at the gate, instead of doing a patrol around the grounds. Shoe had assured McCree that it was something he had insisted on once the news had come to light. Hell, he wasn’t even sitting on the chapel porch like Shoe had said, instead dragged the chair down to the gate, and sitting there.

It was curious.

They stood there for another hour, watching as the sunset, as the guard continued to sit. McCree scratched his chin, frowning.

“What would make a man act like this?” McCree asked.

“Fear, I suspect.”

“Can you smell it from here?”

“What? I can’t smell fear.”

McCree gave him a sidelong look. He’d believe that - when they had met in the chapel, Hanzo referenced his heartbeat. His hearing was probably better than his sense of smell. “I can see fear as a reason, but for what? Fear of authority, but that can’t be it.”

“If it was, he would be doing the patrol Shoe asked of him.”

“Exactly. Unless it’s the fear of a different authority.”

“Hm?”

“Maybe he didn’t steal th’bodies for himself. Maybe he stole or helped steal them for someone else - could be blackmail, could be a bribe, but one can guess someone who wants corpses probably ain’t th’nicest person around. Penny doesn’t count, probably.”

Hanzo snorted. “A logical conclusion, but we can stand here all day creating theories, or we could ask him.”

“You wanna talk to him?”

“No.”

“Of course not,” McCree said with a chuckle, and walked forward. When Hanzo made a beeline for the fence along the side of the cemetery, well out of sight of the guard, McCree paused. “What’re you doin’?”

“Testing the theory. Continue as you would.”

McCree shrugged, watching Hanzo scale the fence and land on the other side with barely a thud, and made his way to the gate.

The guard staggered to his feet, trying not to look like he had been sitting, and glanced back at the cemetery with trepidation. Huh, another thing to add to the list.

“Howdy.”

“You shouldn’t be here, sir. I have to inform you this is private property, and you need to speak to the caretaker, who will be back by morning.” The guard made no move to come closer to the gate, let alone open it.

McCree smiled, leaning forward, not quite touching the gate. “Well, that’s fine. I’m not lookin’ t’talk t’him, I’m looking t’talk t’you, Mr. Biers.”

The guard, Leggy, straightened. “You’re the man they hired. To find out who stole the bodies.”

“Did he tell y’about me?”

“No. Yes. I overheard him talking with the mayor, but he didn’t tell me you’d be by this evening.”

“Shame, but it’s a pleasure to meet you,” McCree held out his hand, and took in the details about the man. He was a short man, not terribly imposing, and had a meaty face. He was sweating, just enough to dampen the hair at his temples and forehead. He met McCree’s gaze steadily, but every so often, his gaze would flick off to the side, as if checking something.

He also wasn’t making any attempt to shake McCree’s hand.

“I’m sure it’d be a pleasure under different circumstances, sir.”

“Call me McCree,” McCree said, tucking his hand in his pocket. “Y’know why I’m here?”

“To ask questions?”

“Y’bet’cha. Willin’ t’talk?”

“Not like I can go anywhere else. Locked inside a cemetery, and you’re on the other side. I doubt you’d have a hard time stopping me.”

“What, with this bum arm?” McCree nodded to the sling.

“I’m sure you’d find a way, sir.”

“McCree.”

“Sir,” Leggy emphasized.

McCree sighed. “Y’could always go back to the chapel, or to the middle of the cemetery. Not like I could follow you there - not that I want you to leave.”

There, another small eye movement, along with a head twitch, like Leggy wanted to turn around and check behind him. But with no breaks in the fence, and the only entrance in front of him, why would he be looking behind him?

“It’s not an option at the moment. I might as well face the music.”

“Y’make it sound like y’did somethin’ wrong.”

“You already suspect it.”

“Just ‘cause I suspect it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“You’re really bad at this.”

“Or I like t’give people th’benefit of the doubt.”

“Do you regularly argue with people like this?”

“No, I-” McCree cut himself off, and shook his head. This wasn’t working. “Yeah, I should get t’th’ questions. Where were y’two weeks ago, th’night th’body was stolen?”

“Here, at the cemetery.”

“Where specifically?”

“At the gate.”

“Did y’see who came?”

“Yes.”

“... Y’gonna tell me who that was?”

“No.”

“Any reason why?”

Before Leggy could answer, there was a loud crash from further within the cemetery. With a whimper, Leggy turned white as a sheet, and spun around, pressing his back against the gate. McCree took the opportunity to slip his arm through it, and hold the guard in place as he leaned in close.

“Now I know we can both hear your pulse. I bet it’s hammerin’ your ears real hard right now, which begs some more questions. What’s got y’so spooked? It can’t be th’men who took th’bodies, could it?”

Leggy shook his head.

“I figured as much. If it was, y’wouldn’t be stickin’ around th’gate. Second question, th’fence is solid all ‘round, ‘cept for here, right? No secret gates entrances only y’know about?”

Leggy shook his head a second time.

“So they walked right in here, and y’let ‘em in. Any reason why? Did they threaten you?”

“M-money.”

“Ah, makes sense. Bein’ a nightwatchman doesn’t pay too well, does it?”

Leggy was silent, but that was damning enough.

“So what are y’afraid of that’s got y’jumpin’ out of your skin? What makes y’not wanna patrol th’cemetery as your boss asked you?” McCree wondered aloud. He already pieced together the answer, given all the clues he needed. He stared out into the darkness. “Y’scared of th’dead?”

“No,” Leggy mumbled. “They’re dead. But… They might be mad. Since their bodies…”

“Have been stolen? Yeah, they’re known to get pissed about that. And y’just let these men walk in and take ‘em. Y’might not have done it, but you’re complicit, Leggy. They got a right reason t’be pissed at you. But, I’m sure they’ll be happy if y’help me find out where the bodies went, y’know? Y’wanna tell me who took th’bodies?”

As if on cue, another crash was heard in the darkness of the cemetery. It echoed, just a little bit, and Leggy squeezed his eyes shut.

“B-Big Rob. He’s a middleman, retriever. Gets stuff other people want,” Leggy spoke haltingly, eyes darting from side to side. “He spends his nights at the Crowbar when he isn’t on a job.”

“And what’s he look like?”

Leggy stuttered, until there was another thud from further in the cemetery, and then he blurted out. “Big! Like his nickname. And a huge mess of red hair and a beard.”

“Thank y’for all the information, Leggy. Now, if y’know what’s good for you, I suggest y’talk t’Shoe, and tell him everythin’ that happened.”

“I’ll g-get fired.”

“I think that’s the least of your worries, right now. Who knows what the ghosts might do t’you, maybe admittin’ t’ it will ease them a bit, until I can find ‘em. And it’d be the right thin’ t’do, unless y’got some other plans in the future.” McCree let him go, and patted him on the shoulder. “I hope you decide t’talk to him. Have a nice night.”

“You’re going to leave me here?”

“Y’barely wanted me here in th’first place. You’ll be fine for one night, buddy.” McCree waved him off, and made his way back to where they had left the horses a few streets down.

He found Hanzo there, already on his horse, and holding Freckles’ reins. “So?”

“I know where t’go, thanks for playin’ th’ghosts, Pumpkin.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow, handing McCree his reins once he swung into the saddle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

McCree stared at Hanzo silently for a minute, before the demon cracked a smirk. “Uh huh, thought so. I’ve dealt with spirits before, and while they got a flair for the dramatic, they don’t got the timin’ to help interrogate a person down.”

Hanzo chuckled, smiling wider. “I did want to test a theory. Tell me, did you smell his fear?”

“I smelled somethin’. Might’ve been piss.”

* * *

The Crowbar didn’t stand out, tucked away between two other businesses on a long block. One of the reasons they were able to spot it was that the door was wide open, letting the light spill out from inside. That, and the drunks that littered the street. Otherwise, it was unremarkable. A good place for a man like Big Rob to work, if what Leggy said was true. 

What interested McCree was how the bar wasn’t too far from the cemetery. It was starting to look like a crime of opportunity, given how close they were, instead of a vendetta against the rich who were buried there. 

Inside of the tavern was a little better, the fixtures and furniture were well made, sturdy enough to deal with the rowdy clientele if need be. The bar ran along one wall, with a stove behind it. The most of the rest of the space was taken up by tables, giving people just enough room to move around between them. The only free area was towards the back wall, where there was a dart board mounted on the wall.

They settled at the bar, taking two of the few remaining stools. It was a pretty busy night, most of the tables and almost all of the barstools taken by the patrons. There were two bartenders behind the bar, filling out any order, while a waitress walked between the tables and delivered the drinks, and snacks.

In the back, under a low light, was a tall redheaded man, nursing a drink.

Hanzo frowned, watching the man from the corner of his eye. “I would like to speak to the target.”

“Oh? If y’wanna, go ahead. Why th’sudden interest?”

“I know how to talk to his type.”

“I’d love to hear the story behind that, but yeah, go ahead.” McCree smiled, waving down one of the bartenders as Hanzo got up from the bar. He got a drink, just so he didn’t stand out so much, and watched as Hanzo approached Big Rob.

He sat silently for a time, trying not to stare. After a minute or two, he gave up, and stood. He walked over to the dart board and the people playing, and asked to join. They saw his arm in a sling, and probably thought he’d be an easy mark, and welcomed him wholeheartedly.

That, or they were already a few drinks in.

Thankfully, the dart board was close enough to Big Rob and Hanzo that he could overhear their conversation if he focused hard enough on their voices.

“Ye gotta be kiddin’ me,” Big Rob said evenly, staring at Hanzo over the top of his drink. He had a Scottish accent, and as his nickname suggested, was a big man. McCree could see that now that he was closer to them, he could’ve given Hanzo in his true form a run for his money.

“What makes you think I joke?”

McCree snorted at that thought as he stepped up to the dartboard. It was good that Hanzo had a serious countenance, or his perchance for pranks would’ve ruined any attempt for sincerity there. 

“Ye want me to tell ye who I did the job fer.”

“Yes.”

“And why should I do that?”

“It is better than the alternative.”

“Threatenin’ me,” Big Rob grinned, and took a swig of his mug. “Ye got a pair.”

“I am not threatening you,” Hanzo assured him. His body language was open, or open enough. Neutral, at least. He didn’t look like he was going to try and fight someone, but McCree remembered seeing him that night - if a vampire could barely do damage to him, McCree doubted that Big Rob would stand a chance.

McCree smiled, and stepped up to throw again.

“Aye?”

“I am asking you to consider the alternatives if this contact of yours fulfills their plans,” Hanzo continued. “I assume asking for such merchandise is not a regular request for you.”

“Nae, it ain’t.”

“Did they say what they were going to do with the merchandise?”

“Oh, aye, went on this whole rant, sayin’ he were gonna take over the world with just six of ‘em,” Big Rob said, with a heavy heap of sarcasm on top.

“So you don’t know his plans.”

“Nae.”

“A poor business practice.”

Big Rob frowned.

“How do you know he won’t betray you, or add you to his supply once you have proven useless to him?”

Big Rob frowned more, and took another sip of his drink.

“He’s a wee thing. Doubt he could do it.”

“And what if he’s raising them? They have no sense of pain, or fatigue, while you do. They could overcome you, with time. Faster, depending on how many he has raised.”

Big Rob cursed quietly. “Liked it better when ye threatened me, instead of this. Ye dinnae fer sure.”

“And you know?”

Big Rob stared at Hanzo quietly for several moments, before he picked up his mug and drained it. Once he finished, he waved down the waitress and motioned to his mug. When she left, he turned his attention back to Hanzo. “Fine. Dinnae pay me that well anyway, and was a right prick about it. The name I got was Hawking, family owns some sorta butchery on the industrial side of the city. That’s where I met him for the job.”

“Thank you, let me pay for your drink for the trouble,” Hanzo said, standing up.

“Might as well. Also, I hope ye weren’t tryin’ to talk me down from continuing my business.”

“Not at all, I was simply trying to suggest better business practices,” Hanzo straightened out his jacket. “When you ask no questions, and only aim to please, there’s a chance it’ll backfire. Just be aware of the risks, and plan accordingly.”

Hanzo left McCree’s line of sight, but McCree didn’t want to leave too quickly, just in case people were watching and saw them leave together. Instead, he played a few more rounds of darts. Once he was sure that enough time had past - Big Rob had been given his new drink, as well - McCree bowed out.

He found Hanzo with their horses for the second time that night, and as he swung into the saddle, he couldn’t help but commenting. “You consider all the angles, don’t you?”

There were little things that Hanzo did that made McCree want to ask questions, his conversation with Big Rob being a new one to the list. It could be just the fact that he was a long lived demon that made him that cautious, but he spoke with too much authority for that. No, there had to be something more.

Those would be questions for another time.

Hanzo looked over at him, and blinked slowly. “You’re one to talk. But… I’ve been alive for a very long time. You pick up certain habits, as I am sure you have.”

McCree nodded. “Y’gotta be prepared. Somethin’s out there, always just a little more powerful than you.”

Hanzo tightened the grip on his reins, for just a moment, before he relaxed. “Yes.”

* * *

The slaughterhouse loomed in the darkness, a tall and imposing structure made of brick and mortar. With only the street lamps to light it, the ‘HAWKING’ written across the top of the big double doors was hard to make out.

They, once again, left their horses a few streets down, and gathered all of their gear from the saddlebags they had packed before. They were prepared, and nowhere close to being subtle as McCree uncovered his gauntlet and donned his coat. Hanzo, meanwhile, had Stormbow and his quiver strapped to his back, but had yet to shed his human appearance. Even this late night, they were in a city, not a small town, and people still wandered by every so often. They purposely ignored the two of them, and sometimes walked even faster to get away from their general area.

McCree loved cities. No one to bother him.

“Let’s find us a service entrance, and sneak inside.”

“I could always climb through one of the windows, if you’d like.”

“... Better plan than me tryin’ t’rip the door out of th’frame with my gauntlet. Let’s find that door.”

As they approached the back of the building searching for the service entrance, they overheard someone talking quietly.

“I don’t understand how you can’t pick locks. You can do everything else involving clandestine stuff, but not locks.”

There was a small, answering snicker.

Hanzo and McCree peeked around the corner and spotted two familiar figures. Penny wore a long black coat over a dark grey skirt and black shirt, with her long hair pulled up in a bun. It made her pale skin even paler.

McCree assumed that the hunched over figure at the door was Doreen, because the woman had switched out her dress from earlier for a dark pair of slacks, a tunic, and gloves. She also had a hood over her head and a bag over her shoulder. She definitely seemed more prepared out of the two.

“What’re y’doin’ here?”

Penny did a double take when she saw them. “Oh, hey.”

“We did say we’d keep an ear out for information.” Doreen murmured, still trying to pick the lock.

“And y’got here first?”

“We live in this city. You just have to ask the right people, and not give off outsider vibes,” Doreen responded. 

“We’re here to help,” Penny grinned.

“Were y’here to help from th’start, or now that we’re here?” McCree generally didn’t have civilians in his hunts as a rule - things had a tendency to get messy - but he wasn’t sure if he’d call these women plain civilians. Not when one was a self-proclaimed necromancer, and the other was some sort of thief.

“Both! Practicing necromancers can be tricky. Also, I don’t want you to burn any books in there that they might have. It’s both selfish and for the greater good.”

That, and the fact that they probably wouldn’t leave if he asked them to, from the looks of it.

Doreen grunted, and pulled her tools out. “I can’t do this.”

Hanzo looked around, and saw that there was a line of windows along the top of the building, towards the roof. Probably to let sunlight in during the workday. Hanzo took to the wall, and scaled it with ease, little gaps in the mortar providing handholds, but McCree suspected Hanzo would have been able to climb regardless of them.

McCree watched as Hanzo disappeared through the window, and as he looked to the door, he saw Penny frowning thoughtfully at the spot where Hanzo had been. He smiled to himself, and waited a few moments until the door opened.

“Howdy, I hear y’potentially have a necromancer on th’premise. Been hired to deal with ‘em,” McCree said with a smile.

Penny groaned.

Hanzo laughed quietly, shook his head, let them all in. 

Locking the door behind them again, McCree looked over the slaughterhouse. He sniffed the air, and wrinkled his nose. The smell of meat and blood hadn’t been washed away entirely at the end of the day, assuming the workers cleaned up after themselves. He looked over a piece of equipment, noting it had been used recently. Their target wouldn’t be able to set up shop in the main work area.

“How did y’figure out how t’go here, anyway?” McCree asked, as the made their way to the middle of the room.

“Asked around,” Doreen said.

“Someone who works here said they were working late, and that they saw a covered wagon come to the slaughterhouse outside the usual delivery times. A little suspect if you ask me,” Penny elaborated.

“And y’just decided to show up?”

“A little information is better than none! You came to our house on that, didn’t you? But we’re here to help, and we’ll follow your lead, Hunter.” 

With a quick chat, they split up, exploring every bit of the room as they could. There was one door of interest, when McCree put his hand on the metal, it was cold to the touch. Unfortunately, after testing the handle, it was also locked, and there were no windows to break into. McCree frowned, they might have to come back to this one later. When they completed their search of the slaughterhouse, they opened the next, thankfully unlocked door, which led to a hallway connecting to the other outbuildings.

Hanzo and McCree moved together, never leaving each other’s sight. Their easy partnership made McCree giddy; it reminded him of the fact that he hadn’t felt this sort of comradire in a long time. Despite the fact that he had spent the better part of two and a half weeks with Hanzo, he was still surprised. He had been travelling and hunting alone for so long. While the addition of Doreen and Penny was sudden, it was still appreciated. Hostile necromancers were a handful, and hopefully they didn’t have more than what had been stolen from Elysium.

They took the left hallway and found the business offices, which they made quick work between the four of them. Nothing out of the ordinary, and unfortunately no personal information as to where this Hawking lived in the city, much to McCree’s disappointment. Hopefully they would find him here tonight. Otherwise, he might have to ask the mayor for some help with locating them, or wait until the slaughterhouse opened properly, when all the employees came in. Neither of which were the best options, the latter definitely worse of the two. 

They returned to the corridor, and took the other path. When McCree opened the new door, he blinked at the cool air that wafted past him, making him glad for his coat. It was the meat hanging room, where rows upon rows of carcasses hung from the ceiling on hooks.

“... Not ominous at all,” Hanzo said, moving to stand beside him in the cool room.

“Nope, not at all. I thought th’slaughterhouse was a little on th’nose, but this… This is worse, I think.”

“You can’t say they didn’t set the stage,” Penny muttered, poking at one of the carcasses. “Remind me not to eat meat for a bit.”

“Your diet could use more vegetables,” Doreen commented.

They moved through the room, and McCree found a familiar pair of metal doors, and if his mental map of the building was right, these doors connected to the main floor. He moved on, and caught up with Hanzo staring at another pair of doors, far in the back of the room.

“This has been used recently,” Hanzo said, once McCree stopped beside him.

The door itself was old, and almost frosted over. Almost. Around the edges were the telltale signs of broken ice, and the handle wasn’t nearly as covered as the rest of door.

“Shall we?” McCree said, and pulled the handle. There was a squeal as the lock fought, but it broke under McCree’s gauntlet all the same, and the hunter dragged the door open. “After you.”

Hanzo snorted gently, walking inside, followed by Penny. McCree looked to Doreen, who shook her head.

“I’ll stay behind, to make sure nothing goes in or out. Call if you need me.” 

McCree nodded, went through the door.

The cold storage was smaller, and old. Probably the original one before they expanded, and made the larger one behind them. It was colder, in this one, with several empty hooks that hung from the ceiling. They wandered further in, McCree keeping Peacekeeper ready.

The room had an L-shape, turning to the left. They heard some noises in the quiet of the storage as they progressed to that turn, the sound of someone breathing, the thunks of something being placed on a metal surface.

McCree leaned against the wall just before the turn, Hanzo right behind him, and peeked around the corner.

The hooks were occupied with four bodies, two less of the amount that had been stolen from the cemetery. They all hung from a shoulder, and only the woman - the businessman’s mother, McCree suspected - was whole. The others were missing pieces; a hand, a leg, an arm. One had their chest open, and the body cavity was empty. 

Beyond that, at a metal table against the far wall, with a bookcase on either side, was a man. He was… Ordinary, average height, brown hair, and a medium build. He was talking to himself as he worked on the body in front of him, nothing distinct enough for McCree to hear.

He turned to Hanzo, hoping the demon’s better hearing might pick up something. Hanzo shrugged at first, only to frown a moment later.

“Inane mumbling to start with,” he whispered. “But now he’s complaining about how the formula doesn’t work. He needs more information, maybe from a source.”

“A source?” McCree asked, frowning. “Like when that one German fella accidentally summoned y’for information?”

“I believe so,” Hanzo frowned further, and looked to McCree. “Do you want him alive?”

McCree made a face, looking back at the scene before them. “... Ideally, but it ain’t lookin’ good. If he’s just doin’ it for the academic pursuit, we still have t’stop him. If he actually wants to cause harm…” McCree looked to Hanzo, and gave him a meaningful look. 

“Stall for a bit, will you? I’ll try to figure out his intentions,” Hanzo said.

McCree nodded, and turned. He held Peacekeeper up - not pointing at the man directly however. Hopefully, he was as friendly as Penny.

Although looking at the bodies, McCree figured this wouldn’t be the case. As much as he wished that every time he hunted that it wouldn’t escalate to violence, he wasn’t a stupid man. He knew how the world worked.

He was thankful for Hanzo watching his back, more than ever.

“Howdy,” he called, keeping a healthy distance from both the man, and the bodies.

The man flinched, and whipped around. He looked just as ordinary from the front as he did from the back - nothing stood out about him. He would have been just a face in the crowd if he hadn’t been standing over a dead body, wearing a butcher’s apron that was covered with old blood.

“Who… Who are you?”

“I’m a hunter, Mr. Hawkin’,” McCree stated. “Mind tellin’ me what you’re doin’ with these bodies?”

The man looked at the bodies with wide eyes, as if seeing them for the first time. He settled his gaze on McCree, and smiled weakly. He gave McCree the impression of a kid caught breaking a window - that he did something bad, but it wasn’t too bad. Like there wasn’t desecration at this level, or the bodies stolen in the first place.

“Research,” Hawking said, and frowned. “How do you know my name?”

“It’s on th’front of th’buildin’, not hard t’guess.”

“Oh,” Hawking looked at the ground, and rubbed his hands together. “I guess that makes sense. A lucky guess. Lucky, lucky you. What are you planning on doing with that gun, hunter?”

“That depends on you, Mr. Hawkin’. Are y’plannin’ on comin’ quietly? ‘Cause th’scene I’ve found y’in, it doesn’t look good for pleadin’ innocent.”

Hawking looked around again, wearing a worried frown. “No, no. I suppose not.” He continued rubbing his hands together, breaths coming out in little puffs of air, visible in the cold. “Is there any way I can convince you to leave?”

“‘Fraid not. You know as well as I do that this ain’t right.”

“No, no…” He trailed off. “You don’t understand, I’m trying to do something important here. You hunt things, you know what it’s like to face death - could you imagine not having to? If you give me the time, I can find a way to perfect it. Immortality, you’ll never die!” Hawking paused. “Well. You’ll die once, obviously, but after that your body will be so much stronger. If I get the formula right! So please, leave.”

McCree shook his head. It wasn’t looking good, the man refused to be talked down. “No. Y’took these people from their final restin’ place, and desecrated ‘em. They need to be brought back.”

“If only you’d understand!” Hawking threw his hand back, pointing to the body on the table. “But you don’t. You never do. I hope no one will miss you.”

With that final statement, the body lurched off the table, and with a surprising amount of speed, ran past Hawking, and straight at McCree.

McCree fired twice, one for the head, the other for the leg. Constructs like this never had a clear weakness. Sometimes a headshot did it, and sometimes - like this instance - it didn’t. Slowing it down was his next best option.

The construct staggered, and slowed, but didn’t stop. With no sense of pain, it continued to run with its damaged leg, and slammed McCree into the wall.

What was with various creatures and their preoccupation with slamming him into things?

There was no expression on the construct’s face as it wrapped one of its hand around McCree’s throat, and McCree was intimately introduced to the damage his shot had made on the constructs face. Its face even more slack with the missing back of its head, bits of it - like the ear - dangling dangerously, and almost falling off. McCree hissed, and reached up with his gauntlet, digging the claws into the flesh of the arm. They sunk in easily, rot setting in despite the cold. It didn’t take too much to tear into it, and pull it off of his throat.

He dug his gauntlet in further, and tore the arm off with all of his strength. The construct still had him against the wall with the other hand - fisted in his coat and holding him in place - but now he wasn’t in immediate danger. Now, he had to figure out a way to keep stalling.

Hawking hissed, having moved closer to the fight, but still keeping a healthy distance away. “See! This is the problem. It just doesn’t want to keep -”

The construct vomited all over the front of McCree’s shirt and vest.

Hawking and McCree both groaned, but McCree suspected for entirely different reasons.

“It doesn’t want to hold together. The books aren’t good enough,” Hawking continued to ramble, seemingly forgetting McCree. Hawking focused entirely on the construct, wringing his hands. “If only I could find out how to make the skin strong - make it regrow, o-or something! There’s no books on it…”

“Of course there isn’t,” Penny said, stepping into Hawking’s line of sight. “You think they’d give up that information so easily?”

Hawking tore his gaze away from the construct. “Who are you?” 

“A necromancer,” she proclaimed proudly. “And a better one than you. What kind of mess is that?” 

Hawking looked back to the construct. “I… I just need more.”

“You won’t impress them with that,” Penny hissed. “It’s child’s play.”

“She’s right,” Hanzo said, stepping in behind Penny. He appeared in his true form, towering over everyone in the room, Storm Bow back with his quiver. “We cannot allow the average human to find it. This work of yours is… Below average.”

Hawking squeaked, clapping his hands on his face, smearing the old blood across his cheeks. “I tried so hard to contact someone, but… Nobody answered. Is it because of her? Did she impress you first? Did… Did you tell her?”

“The secret to immortality? Yes.”

“What did she do that I couldn’t?” Hawking asked, walking forward. Penny made a face, and stepped back, but Hanzo stood his ground. Hawking stopped just short of him, and looked up at Hanzo pleadingly.

“She showed an aptitude, and paid the price.”

“I can prove I’m better, look at how much progress I’ve made! It may fall apart, but its still holding this hunter in place - he’s trapped. Its strong, even with the damage! I’ll pay the price, just tell me what it is.”

“It’ll require a blood sacrifice.”

“Oh, that’s easy. I have this hunter right here, I’ll just take from him. He won’t leave, I’ll make it of use to us,” Hawking turned, and started puttering towards metal table, where scalpels and knives lay across it. 

“You think that the hunter will be enough?” Penny said with a laugh, hands on her hips, and confident. It was lessened by the fact that she was standing behind Hanzo. 

Hawking frowned at that statement, and looked back to Hanzo. “What do you mean?”

“It’ll take more than the hunter. Since this is such a lackluster start,” he said, waving towards the construct. “I need to know your intent. The larger the sacrifice, the more proof it is that you’re a true necromancer.”

“Oh. It’ll take some time, but I can do it. It should be hard…” Hawking trailed off, murmuring quietly to himself as he went back to the metal table. He picked up one of the scalpels, and walked back towards McCree.

Honestly, this felt like the first time the necromancer paid attention to him since their initial conversation. McCree had been a non-issue for him. It was a weird feeling, different from what McCree was used to, but he trusted Hanzo to have a handle on the situation.

Hawking stopped when he stood by Hanzo once more. “There’s no time frame, just as soon as possible?”

Hanzo stared him down.

McCree frowned, watching as Hawking played with the scalpel, running his thumb along the blade. 

“Ye-es. Yes, I understand,” Hawking looked at Hanzo, Penny, and then to McCree. “I’ll start with the hunter. That’ll keep him from sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. I’ll do it.” 

Hawking didn’t go immediately for McCree though. Instead, he took a deep breath, and lunged for Penny, who was still standing behind Hanzo.

“Watch out!” McCree cried, kicking out at the construct’s knee, trying to unbalance it. While it buckled, it still didn’t let go of McCree. He had to help, he had to do... 

Hawking didn’t get far, however, as Hanzo pulled a knife free from his sleeve, and slipped it between the man’s ribs.

Hawking blinked, looking down in a daze. He may have murmured a quiet ‘oh’, but the thud of his body hitting the floor was the loudest thing in the room.

With the creator’s death, the construct wheezed, and staggered back. McCree landed on his feet, and watched as the construct gripped its head, silent and with its mouth open wide.

“Thank you,” Penny said, standing in the same spot. Doreen came up behind her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Penny rested her head on top of Doreen’s for a moment, before pushing her away. “Help get the bodies down.”

“A sad existence,” Hanzo murmured, watching it as he stepped around the construct. 

Doreen walked around it, heading for the closest hanging body, while Penny headed for the bookshelves in the back of the room.

“Yeah,” McCree agreed, frowning as he watched the construct. It hadn’t moved since it started clutching its head. “I don’t know how much control he had on the construct, but it doesn’t seem to have a mind of its own. Or just barely has one.”

“It didn’t die to a headshot, how do you suppose we --” Hanzo started, but trailed off as the construct sagged forward, almost hitting McCree on its way down to the floor. It stopped moving, and lay on the cold ground.

McCree closed his eyes, and sighed. “Not much we can do.”

They got to work, lowering the bodies from the hooks as gently as they could, and lined the victims up as far away from Hawking as possible. 

“I don’t know how long it’ll take for us t’get a wagon t’put all the bodies in.”

“We can leave them here, let the mayor deal with it,” Hanzo suggested. “He would have the authority. Plus, if I recall correctly, slaughterhouses have early opening times. I don’t know how much time we have left.”

“They do. Have early opening times that is,” Doreen offered, returning from the hallway with several aprons. She lay them over the victims’ heads and chest as best she could.

Once that was completed, Hanzo joined Penny at the bookshelves, and pulled a few off.

“These are much too dangerous to leave around.”

McCree peeked at the titles, and winced. “Any suggestions?”

“We could burn them, to keep them from falling in the wrong hands.”

Penny’s head snapped up from the book she had been reading. “Hey! I said I was here to keep you from burning them! And to help.”

McCree shook his head. “Y’can’t keep all of them. I’m sure y’already have some of these titles.”

“We do,” Doreen said, shoving some of the books into her bag. “But there are a handful we don’t, and we’ll protect them.”

Penny snatched the books Hanzo was holding, and flipped through them quickly.

Hanzo looked to McCree, and tilted his head towards the entrance. They walked over together, and McCree couldn’t help but notice how Hanzo kept a careful eye on the other two.

“Do you trust her?”

McCree shrugged. “She seems sincere, and she’s also had several opportunities t’backstab us, but didn’t do anythin’.”

“Plus, it’s not like we don’t know where she lives.”

“Exactly.”

They returned to the shelves, and picked up the books that Penny didn’t grab, either out of disinterest, or McCree vetoing her and saying the information was too powerful. They took them to the furnace for the building, not too far from the slaughterhouse floor. They threw the books in, and watched them burn, making sure nothing legible was left.

When they hit the warm night air, a welcomed difference to the cold of the meat locker, McCree breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for the distraction in there, even if it was for selfish reasons,” he said with a smile.

“You’re welcome. And…” Penny turned to Hanzo. “Thank you for saving me, Mister Shimada. It was a pleasure working with you both!” 

With another quick goodbye, they went their separate ways. McCree and Hanzo gathering their horses from the street, watching as Doreen and Penny walked down the street and turned the corner.

McCree and Hanzo made their way back to their hotel. They washed, McCree both his clothing and his body, out of disgust, before hitting the bed. McCree would speak to the mayor in the morning, when it wasn’t well past midnight. The office was probably empty anyway, and he wanted to sleep.

He felt Hanzo’s arm wrap around him from behind, and he smiled.

* * *

McCree woke up the next morning to an empty bed, and whined quietly as he rolled over into Hanzo’s spot. It was still warm, which implied that Hanzo hadn’t been gone for long, but he still wasn’t here, which was the important part.

He guessed that meant he’d have to go find Hanzo, but McCree wasn’t ready to leave the bed yet. With the necromancer dealt with, all he needed to do was inform the mayor. But McCree didn’t need to get up right away. Or too early.

McCree pressed his face into Hanzo’s pillow. He really should let them know about the bodies, so they could be properly laid to rest again, regardless of their family finding out prematurely or not.

McCree dragged himself out of bed, rubbing his face as he went. He would need to go incognito again.

As he rummaged for an outfit for the meeting, McCree heard the door to their room open, and the smell of food drift through the bedroom door. Pulling on some pants, he went to investigate.

“You woke up,” Hanzo observed, placing several plates down on the coffee table. “I was worried I would have to wake you to make sure you ate while it was still warm.”

“Where…”

“We are in a fancy hotel, and we are here on business for the mayor. The kitchen was more than willing to cook for us. Eat?”

McCree sat down, and grabbed the fork from the tray. There were eggs, beans, toast, and bacon, all things he enjoyed. He picked up the plate of eggs, and eyed the bacon.

“That ain’t from…”

“No, I asked them. They get their meat from a different butcher in the city.”

McCree continued to eye the bacon. “... Y’sure?”

Hanzo smiled. “I stressed the question, believe me they know.”

“Alright, if y’say so.”

They ate breakfast, and McCree finally broke down and ate a few pieces of bacon. He was hungry, and realized they hadn’t eaten anything since their meeting with Penny and Doreen the day before. “Thank you for gettin’ all of this, pumpkin, especially this much.”

“You’re welcome. But believe me, this is as much for you as it is for me.”

Once they finished the meal, McCree found a shirt, and stole one of Hanzo’s extra sashes to make a sling. “You wanna come along?”

Hanzo shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if I do. He was uncomfortable with my presence in the first place, and it doesn’t provide us a tactical advantage right now.”

“Could spook him into givin’ us more money.”

“Would you take it?”

McCree frowned, and shrugged. “No, probably not.”

Hanzo waved him off. “Go, you’ll be fine. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back. I’ll clean this up.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll get goin’.”

The meeting went well, the mayor welcoming with open arms, probably happier that Hanzo wasn’t in the room with him. Although he was initially shocked by the sling, thinking McCree had sustained some sort of injury during the case. After reassuring Nutt that it was just a disguise, he explained their investigation, as well as what happened in the end, and where the bodies were. McCree thought the meeting would end there, as Mayor Nutt called for the police and left, saying he would make sure the bodies would be returned to their resting place. However, it turned out that he fully expected McCree to join him in the ‘discovery’ of the bodies. 

Thankfully McCree managed to talk his way out of going back inside the slaughterhouse. So while he may have been dragged out of the mayor’s office and across town, he ended up sitting on his horse across the street from the building as it was all but raided. He had to admit though, this raid was more polite and quiet than he was used to, so maybe it was just a discovery. Or re-discovery. 

He and the others had already done most of the work.

The police removed the bodies from the old cold storage, every one of them covered white sheets. They were loaded onto a plain black carriage, and covered. Save for one, which was placed in the cart the police had brought with them.

The mayor approached him, as the police cleared out the onlookers.

“Very hands on of you, overlooking the procedure,” McCree commented, watching the cart and carriage were driven away, in two different directions. 

“I had to make sure it was done right,” Nutt said, rubbing his hands together. “You never know what kind of sloppy work can be done if you aren’t there to oversee.”

McCree raised an eyebrow, but Nutt didn’t react to it, still staring off after the police’s cart, and the lone body on it.

“There were several empty bookshelves in the room.”

“Yeah, my partner and I burned ‘em. Keep th’knowledge outta the wrong hands and all that.”

Nutt frowned, looking thoughtful, before focusing on McCree again. “Were there -- Good… Good plan. Yes. That was the right decision. You can head back to your hotel, if you’d like. I’ll be in touch, after I make sure this mess is cleaned up. Likely tomorrow.”

With nothing left to do but time to kill, McCree nodded to the mayor, nudged Freckles, and returned to his hotel.

* * *

The hotel room was quiet when McCree returned, with the bedroom doors closed. The table was cleaned from their earlier meal, and the curtains were wide open, letting the early afternoon sun in.

McCree smiled, resting his hands on his hips. The job was done, and reported in, even if it had taken the better part of a couple of hours. The day was saved, and now he got to rest in an exceptionally nice room for a few days on someone else’s dime, with a handsome demon. It was definitely an upgrade from the road, as much as he enjoyed it the open plains.

Slipping his coat off, McCree headed for the bedroom door. Maybe Hanzo went back to sleep, after McCree left. He had been gone long enough for that.

When McCree opened the door, he was greeted with a different sight. Hanzo was in the bed, but given how the sheets were pooled around the top of his thighs, and how he was stroking his dick with such purpose, McCree’s original assumption of sleeping was wrong.

McCree stood in the doorway, watching. When Hanzo looked straight at him, with those white eyes, the man wheezed gently.

“Welcome back,” Hanzo said, loftily. Like he wasn’t bothered at all. “Would you like to join me?”

“Yes,” McCree said, fiercely. He closed the door behind him, threw his coat on the dresser, and undressed. There was a small hiccup when he tried to take off his pants before his boots, but it didn’t take long for McCree to fix that. In just a few seconds, he joined Hanzo on the bed, pulling the sheets away, and throwing them off the bed entirely. “We don’t need these.”

Hanzo smiled. “Of course.” He frowned when McCree pried his hand off of his dick, but readily accepted McCree’s kiss.

“You’re real handsome like this,” McCree murmured against Hanzo’s mouth.

“What, naked?”

“Yeah, but also all the time.” McCree leaned back, sitting beside the demon. He looked up and down the long line of Hanzo’s body, and focused back on his face. “Can I just look at y’for a bit? Touch you.”

“Please. I do love being appreciated.” Hanzo shifted, stretching out further, getting comfortable. Thankfully the bed was as large as it was, or else McCree would have no room for… Anything. 

“As y’should be, pumpkin.”

McCree started at the top, touching Hanzo’s horns. Where they connected to his skull, and how little transition there was between the hard... keratin? He assumed demons had keratin too. But where they met, and transitioned into the skin on the demon’s forehead.

He traced lower, along the tattoos on Hanzo’s face, where they curled up from his brows, and how they circled his eyes. “Are these markings natural? Or didja have them tattooed on?”

“They are marks.”

“Bet it woulda hurt like a bitch if they had been tattooed.”

“I am accustomed to pain.”

“I suspect y’are, still doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.”

He trailed a finger along the bridge of Hanzo’s nose, and laughed when Hanzo’s playfully bit at it when it got close enough. He pressed a quick kiss to those lips, taking the time to trail his fingers, then palms across Hanzo’s cheekbones, and tug at his pointed ears when the demon bit his lip.

“Someone’s a little impatient.”

“I am not.”

“Uh huh,” McCree said, not convinced. Even if Hanzo wasn’t squirming, he still had an air about him, like he was moments away from doing so. McCree shook his head with a chuckle, and trailed his hands down the strong column of Hanzo’s throat, along his collarbone, and to the demon’s chest.

He palmed Hanzo’s chest with his flesh hand, giving his right pec a firm squeeze.

“You enjoy them, hm?”

“A little,” McCree admitted with another laugh.

“Is there any reason why you aren’t using both hands? You seem shy about using your left hand in these moments.”

McCree blinked, and looked down at his gauntlet. “Oh… Old habit I guess, previous partners were human, and not always interested in th’arm? A few liked th’danger of it, but it’s strong.”

“As I saw earlier. May I?” Hanzo held out his hand. McCree adjusted his sitting, and placed his left hand in Hanzo’s offered grip.

“Exquisite workmanship.” Hanzo trailed his fingers along the armour, from the back of McCree’s hand to the hunter’s elbow. He flipped the arm over, and ran his fingers against the base, before using his other hand to cover McCree’s flesh hand, which was still on Hanzo’s chest. “It runs hotter, too.” 

“S’part of the spellwork, or I guess a side effect of th’whole arm. It’s got a shit ton of wards, for that matter, though they’re on th’underside of th’plates. Gotta keep it contained, and that much energy…”

Hanzo played with McCree’s fingertips, where the gauntlet turned into a more muted claw, at least compared to Hanzo’s nails. “I see, that does make sense.”

He guided McCree’s gauntlet to his chest, and arched his back a bit, pressing his chest further into McCree’s palms. “I hold no fear of your gauntlet. Of you. So please, feel free to use both of your hands, Jesse.”

McCree swallowed, and nodded. He squeezed Hanzo’s chest, and leaned down, brushing featherlight kisses down the valley he created between. He moved to the right, and pressed another kiss to Hanzo’s nipple, and played with it, while his gauntlet teased the other.

“This… This has got t’be ink,” McCree murmured, nodding to the tattoo that started on Hanzo’s right pec.

“Most of it. The binding spell is, however some parts of it the spirit itself filled in, once it was properly bound. Some of them enjoy adding their own touches to their… Ah, home.”

“Y’bound a spirit?” McCree ran his hands along Hanzo’s shoulder, and down his arm, definitely taking a moment to squeeze the demon’s bicep once or twice, just to feel. Shit, it was these arms that had lifted him up in the chapel. “Why?”

“It’s a ritual of my clan. They offer guidance, as well as strength. Among other things.”

A clan? That was something to ask about later, when he wasn’t worried about spoiling the mood by asking too many questions, especially one that was off topic. The topic being Hanzo’s body before him.

“It’s amazin’, I gotta say. Much like the rest of you.”

“You give compliments so freely, I wonder how you are about receiving the same.” Hanzo grabbed McCree’s arm, and gently pulled him forward, until he was half laying across Hanzo’s chest, almost face to face. The demon ran his hand through McCree’s long hair, and gently tugged out the ribbon that tied it back in a ponytail. Once that was done, he trailed his finger, dragging his nail lightly along as he did so, down McCree’s face, and along his nose. “You have a very well defined nose.”

“Probably ‘cause it’s been broken a few times.”

“That adds more character. I hope you dealt with those who broke it accordingly.”

McCree grinned. “Definitely.”

Hanzo pressed a finger against McCree’s lips, and pulled him back down for another kiss. And several more after that.

“Pumpkin,” McCree said, once they finally parted for air. “You’re interruptin’ me.”

“Oh? I suppose I should let you continue. If I must.”

“You must,” McCree sat back up, and ran his hands down Hanzo’s chest, and stomach. The demon’s abs were gorgeous, and McCree scooted down further. He grabbed Hanzo’s hips, and pressed his thumbs against the bones, just drinking in the sight of the treasure trail that started just under Hanzo’s navel, and grew as it went lower.

He moved to Hanzo’s powerful thighs, and gave those a squeeze as well. They were so strong and thick, McCree just… He gave them another squeeze, which made Hanzo laugh. McCree glanced up, and caught Hanzo smiling at him, eyes wrinkling around the edges.

Hanzo waved his hand, much like some sort of royalty. “What? Am I distracting you again? Please, you have my permission to continue worshiping me.”

McCree snorted, amused, and let his hands trail lower.

Hanzo’s legs below the knees were strange. They were a similar skin tone to the rest of him, but didn’t feel like flesh. In fact, they seemed to run a bit hotter than… “Are these prosthesis like my arm?” McCree asked, running his hand down Hanzo’s calf to his foot. He never really got a close look before, now that he thought about it. The only time Hanzo had been naked before was when McCree wasn’t in a situation to look at his lower legs.

“Yes.”

“But they look as similar t’your original legs as before? Or are they stylized?” McCree picked up Hanzo’s foot, and looked at the two toe talons, as well as the claw on the back of his heel. 

“They are visually similar, although significantly more durable.”

McCree nodded, and pressed his thumbs into the arch of Hanzo’s foot. “Can y’feel this?”

“Yes. Although I assume it’s as muted as your arm’s ability to feel. Magic can only go so far.”

McCree nodded, and set Hanzo’s foot down. “Roll over onto your stomach?”

Hanzo chuckled, and acquiesced, as McCree shuffled back up to the top of the bed. He repeated what he did with Hanzo’s front, running his hands along Hanzo’s powerful shoulders, massaging his back muscles, and digging in ever so often.

Each time elicited a pleased groan from the demon.

McCree sat back when he finally reached Hanzo’s ass. Another thing that had been hidden away from him due to past positioning, and baggy pants. Oh, he had seen hints of it, but clothes didn’t do it justice.

“Now, I know you say I got a nice ass -”

“You do.”

“Fine, fine. But, goddamn, Pumpkin. It doesn’t compare.” McCree grabbed a handful of each firm cheek, and gave them a squeeze. “It just doesn’t. I’m not climbin’ walls all day like it means nothin’. Does wonders for your ass.”

“Your ass is just as fantastic, Jesse. What do I need to do to convince you of it? I could partake of it again if that’ll do it.”

McCree laughed. “Alright, that’s enough. You’re gonna make me blush.”

“You don’t want it?”

“I do! Just… Another time. I wanna do somethin’ else with you. Roll back over?”

“Enjoyed you cataloguing?” Hanzo teased as he did so.

“You joke, but I’d love to write a book. My stories and notes.”

“You would include this?”

“... Maybe. Maybe an edited version, although I’m sure there’re people out there who’d love to read about the forbidden romance of hunter and demon.” McCree settled between Hanzo’s legs, letting them bracket him on either side. He also pushed him to sit up a bit against the headboard, because otherwise he wouldn’t have much room for his plan.

“We’re hardly forbidden.”

“Naw, it’d be great drama for th’story. But it would be nice to have some sort of resource that’s up t’date, you know? A lot of th’old research books still have some old superstitions.” McCree looked down at Hanzo’s cock, the only thing he had ignored throughout his exploration. It rested between the demon’s legs, half hard. McCree reached out, and took it in his hand.

McCree scooted down onto his belly, and gave Hanzo’s dick a stroke, from root to tip, then back down. He didn’t feel the ridges yet against his hands - maybe they came to the forefront when Hanzo was hard? He gave squeezed the base, and felt something under the skin, so that might be the case. 

Hanzo watched him, and raised an eyebrow.

McCree smiled, and bit at Hanzo’s inner thigh. “You really are impatient.”

“I am not,” he huffed.

“Uh huh.”

Otherwise, Hanzo’s cock didn’t look too much different than his own, but he had made that observation before, hadn’t he? He did like the new perspective this time, however, as he started to stroke Hanzo’s dick in earnest, squeezing down at the shaft every time he returned there. He wanted to feel when the ridges presented themselves.

With his gauntlet, very gently, McCree slid the foreskin down, revealing Hanzo’s dark blue-ish grey head. He scooted closer, Hanzo opening his legs further to let him, and licked the slit, tasting the pre that already gathered there. He continued to tease, sucking and licking at the top, while letting his hand take care of the shaft. He felt the ridges harden, a delightful texture to feel pressing into the palm of his hand. No wonder he had enjoyed this dick inside him. As Hanzo’s cock hardened, McCree heard a purr.

McCree glanced up, and saw Hanzo playing with his nipples, all the while making low, rumbling sound from deep in his chest. Definitely a purr.

He grinned, and took even more of the demon’s dick into his mouth, and moaned around it. Hanzo’s hands shot down, tangling in his hair and… Held him there. He didn’t push him forward or pull him away. McCree sucking the cock, and reached up with his free hand, placing it over Hanzo’s and pushing him down further.

Hanzo cracked an eye open, looking down at McCree, and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, Jesse?”

McCree nodded emphatically, or as well as he could in the situation.

Hanzo smiled, and dug in his nails, just a little bit, and McCree could feel their pinpricks in his scalp. 

He moaned again.

Hanzo pushed him down, just a little bit further, before pulling him back up. They worked together, McCree bobbing his head as he took more and more of Hanzo’s dick in his mouth, and Hanzo pushing him just a little bit further. He could feel the ridges of the demon’s dick on his tongue, against his lips, and his hand. Hanzo’s low purr grew louder, turning into… All McCree could think of was a rumble. A rumble that was broken up every so often by panting, and whispers of his name.

He felt Hanzo’s dick touch the back of his throat, but it didn’t last for long. Instead, Hanzo pulled him off entirely, tugging his hair sharply when he tried to go back to sucking it.

“Jesse,” Hanzo murmured gently, and paused, because while McCree’s mouth may not be on Hanzo’s dick, McCree could still use his hand. “Jesse, may I mark you?”

“Yes,” McCree hissed, and groaned. McCree was hard, but the sight in front of him thoroughly distracted him from paying attention to his own needs. He was only reminded of the fact when he almost started humping the mattress, chasing friction as Hanzo pushed him back to his dick. It was one, two, three more bobs before Hanzo not quite pulled him off again, and came, only a little less that half of the come going into McCree’s mouth. The rest painted his beard, his cheek, his nose, and almost hit one of his eyes. It was sloppy, it was going to be a mess to clean up later…

McCree loved it.

He swallowed what he caught in his mouth, and gently rested his head next to Hanzo’s softening dick.

Hanzo ran his hand through McCree’s hair, pulling it away from his face, away from the mess there, purring still. “Sit up.”

McCree quickly rubbed his face against the bed, a lazy attempt at cleaning, and sat up. He hissed as his aching dick brushed against the sheets.

“Look at you,” Hanzo murmured, and slowly tracked McCree’s body from head to… Head. He lay back down on the mattress, and patted his chest. “Sit here.”

McCree moved, and straddled Hanzo’s chest. The demon rested his hands on McCree’s knees, giving them a squeeze, and trailed his hands up McCree’s thighs, going against the grain of his hair. He continued, up his chest, nails carding through his thick chest hair, and squeezed his chest. Squeezed his shoulders, his biceps. Hanzo made a point to touch everything, except for his dick. Which was what McCree had done as well, so it was fair play, even though the thought of fairness was far out of his mind. He groaned, his hips jerking forward every so often when Hanzo moved his hands close enough.

With one hand on his ass, Hanzo reached up. He swiped some of the come from McCree’s face, and licked it off his finger. “You don’t mind my teeth, do you?” He grinned widely, as if to prove a point. 

McCree blinked. The fangs that pushed out past Hanzo’s lips were fine, and from what he had seen inside his mouth, those weren’t bad either. “What? No.”

“Good.”

They shifted position, Hanzo moving McCree further up his chest, so his arms looped under McCree’s legs, which bracketed the demon’s shoulders now. Hanzo’s hands situated themselves on McCree’s ass, kneading it gently, pushing him forward. As McCree got closer, he opened his mouth, and McCree understood why he asked. It would be hard to avoid some of those teeth.

McCree took his dick in hand, and guided the head into Hanzo’s mouth. Hanzo kept pulling him closer, feeding more in. McCree wound his flesh hand in Hanzo’s hair, and grabbed onto the headboard with his gauntlet for better balance. 

He stared down at Hanzo, laying on his back under him, and whimpered when he felt the demon’s tongue slowly, slowly wind itself around his dick.

“Y’sure y’ain’t some sorta sex demon?” McCree murmured, thrusting in. 

Hanzo had the audacity to grin, and pinch his buttcheek in response.

McCree started slow, feeling the tongue slide around his dick as he thrusted in and out. He got bolder, when Hanzo didn’t use his hands on his ass to take control of the pace. McCree guessed Hanzo liked his ass that much, and which was still a weird feeling for him. He wondered how long it would take before he’d get used to it.

He thrust in faster, deeper, and moaned when he felt Hanzo’s tongue wind tighter around his dick each time he went a bit further. He felt how Hanzo’s fangs, the ones that stuck out of his mouth, scraped against his sensitive inner thighs, up to the crease of his legs. 

When McCree finally felt his dick hit the back of Hanzo’s throat, he bit his lip. He moaned, long and low, and rested his forehead on the headboard. He looked down at Hanzo through half closed eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

Hanzo looked far too smug.

When he felt the tip of a tongue brush against his balls, McCree jerked forward in surprise, going just a little bit deeper, and felt the tips of the fangs dig in just a little bit further. He shuddered, and made some manner of unholy noise when he felt Hanzo’s tongue twitch and wind its way around his dick, and toy with his balls. Had his tongue always been this long? Was he ever in a situation to pay attention?

Between before and now, McCree wasn’t going to last.

All it took in the end was feeling Hanzo’s finger tease his asshole to make him come. He pulled back, ready to thrust in, when he felt it brush against the hole. He came hard, mind going blank as he felt Hanzo swallow. There was a shout, and a crack. McCree knew the shout was from him, and desperately hoped the crack wasn’t.

He blinked a few times, still falling from his high, as Hanzo gently pulled him back to sit on his chest. There was another crack, and a splinter, and McCree blinked bearily down at his gauntlet, and the chunk of headboard in it.

When Hanzo started laughing, McCree couldn’t help but join in. He tried to put the chunk back, but it wasn’t going to pass an inspection anytime soon.

“Two for two, Jesse. Does small bed destruction usually happen, or am I a special case?” Hanzo teased, hands resting on McCree’s thighs.

“Y’already know you’re one of a kind, pumpkin,” McCree murmured, and scooted back further, so he could lay down on top of Hanzo. “But no, I don’t have a lot of those misdemeanors under my belt. Although I hope this doesn’t continue. I like my bed at home.”

“I hope it’s sturdy.”

“I hope so too.” McCree leaned forward, and pressed a quick kiss to Hanzo’s mouth. The demon wasn’t having it, and turned it into a slow, languid kiss, tangling his fingers deep in McCree’s long hair. Once they came up for air, McCree lay down, resting his head on Hanzo’s shoulder, and burrowing his face into Hanzo’s neck. “Y’sure you aren’t a sex demon.”

Hanzo laughed, and wrapped his arms around McCree’s waist.

“Y’know, when I get home, I’ll finally have access t’all my books and research. I’ll know for sure then, instead of you handsomely dodgin’ th’question all th’time.”

“Can someone handsomely dodge a question?”

“You’re doin’ it right now.”

“Mm, but how do you know if your books are right? You said yourself that some of the books have old superstitions, how do you know they’re right?”

“All the more to write my own book. But my writin’ partner is being difficult.” McCree bit Hanzo’s neck. Lightly.

Hanzo ran a soothing hand down McCree’s back. “I’ll stop being difficult, if that’s what you wish.”

“What I want now is to sleep, honestly. I’ll ask y’more questions tomorrow.”

Hanzo let out a low purr. “I look forward to it.”

McCree snuggled closer, wishing he hadn’t tossed the bedsheets away, and slept, wrapped in in Hanzo’s arms.

* * *

McCree woke to a loud knocking sound. He lifted his head from Hanzo’s chest, to find Hanzo also awake, and staring at the bedroom door.

“Someone’s at the main door,” he said, and pulled his arms away from McCree. “Would you like me to…?”

McCree shook his head, and climbed out of bed slowly. “Naw, they’ve mostly been dealin’ with me, I should meet them.”

After a quick peek outside, to confirm the early evening time, McCree gathered his supplies. He picked up the closest pair of pants, which happened to be his, and grabbed the quilt from the floor, haphazardly wrapping it around his shoulders. Shirts were too much effort. Not to mention buttoning up his pants. If they were going to call on him this evening, they’d deal with it.

There was another knock, louder this time. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Hold yer horses.”

“Jesse,” Hanzo called to him, just as he reached the bedroom door. “You still have something in your beard.”

McCree paused, and ran into the bathroom, cursing quietly as he tried to wash the remaining dried come from his face and beard. After making sure he just looked disheveled and not debauched, McCree finally reached the door, and opened it.

Mayor Nutt stepped inside, and McCree was glad he closed the bedroom door behind him, because the mayor gave the entire room a very thorough examination. He stopped, staring at the bedroom that they hadn’t used. If McCree had to hazard a guess, Mayor Nutt probably assumed that Hanzo was behind that closed door. “Your partner is asleep?”

“Just restin’ in bed.”

“Hm.” Mayor Nutt moved to stand beside the couches, and turned to McCree. “You did a very good job, I’m glad I hired you. The bodies are all accounted for, as well as most of their limbs.”

“Shoe must be happy.”

“Oh, he is. Sad that he had to let his nightguard go, but with a breach of security like that, it’s understandable. However, you were fast, efficient, and most important of all, quiet. I think that should be rewarded. I’ve added a bonus to your fee.” He pulled a bag from his coat, and placed it on the coffee table. The metal inside clinked.

“And your citizens are happy? The families who had the bodies stolen?”

“That was another thing I wanted to speak to you about,” Mayor Nutt paused, staring at payment for a beat. He glanced up, and smiled at McCree. “I’ve elected not to tell them.”

McCree raised an eyebrow. “... There was a raid on a slaughterhouse, which they found human bodies inside. How can y’keep that hush?”

“They were only bodies, and bodies which happened to be from a less affluent area. Nothing the families need to worry about, as they would never bury their dead in such place. There was no breach.”

McCree frowned more. He wondered what Shoe thought about this, probably nothing good. “And those who know? Like the guard?”

“While Caretaker Shoe may have let him go, he was given a handsome stipend for his years of service.”

“Another bribe.”

“As for others… Shoe knows better, and the only other people are criminals. Who would believe what they said? And there’s also you and your partner, of course. Can I expect further discretion from you, or should I add another bonus?”

McCree smiled, and he knew he got good at it after many long years, because even his mentor couldn’t tell it was a fake. While more money was always nice, the idea of a bribe left a bad taste in his mouth. Not that the bonus wasn’t also bribe like, but he could pretend it was just because they had been quick and efficient.

“Naw. Not gonna be around for much longer. No point in talkin’ to ‘em.”

Mayor Nutt smiled back, beaming. “Excellent. Thank you for your service, Hunter McCree, and to your partner as well. This room will be booked off for the rest of the week, but feel free to leave when you want.”

He probably wanted them gone sooner rather than later, but that was usually the case. McCree showed the mayor to the door, and they shook hands for a final time. “Good luck, and good evening.”

McCree waved, and closed the door with a sigh.

He jumped at the snort, and looked up to see Hanzo leaning against the couch. 

“Ever the politician,” Hanzo sneered.

McCree shrugged. “I may not like it, but it’s business.”

Hanzo shook his head. “We leave tomorrow morning?”

“Naw. I’m gonna check the post to see if there’s any more jobs lined up before we head out. Plus, if we stay here longer, we might worry him.” McCree said with a grin.

Hanzo looked thoughtful. “We could also break the other bed.”

“It was barely a scratch! It’s not gonna happen every time, either!”

“Now you’ve made it a challenge,” Hanzo said with a laugh, grinning widely.

* * *

They left three days later, McCree went to the post office and finally found the letter for another job in the mail. They said goodbye to the very nice hotel room, no worse for the wear, and with no further broken furniture. Despite Hanzo’s attempts, in any case. The coffee table had almost been lost, but due to McCree’s quick thinking, he managed to roll them both off it in time.

If someone told McCree that he would see a demon pout because they hadn’t destroyed a coffee table by having sex on it, he would have asked if they were drunk.

Instead, the carpet ended up ruined, but that was easier to clean, and McCree didn’t feel bad enough to pay for any damages, like the bed.

They rode out, and McCree already felt better being back in the saddle. It had been a nice break, and the anonymity it provided for his work had been a breath of fresh air, but after awhile, he always felt the pull to the road. It was his second home, and one he knew well. Given the slight smile on Hanzo’s face, he suspected the demon felt the same way too.

Once the city was far behind him, Hanzo broke their companionable silence, turning to look at McCree beside him. “Jesse, I understand I haven’t been forthcoming. I’ve dodged some questions, as well as your clear interest just to know more about my past.”

McCree shrugged. “I’m curious - you gotta admit, you’re one of a kind, and I definitely haven’t met someone like y’before.”

“Flattery… Will get you somewhere, as you know,” Hanzo said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t want you to feel like y’gotta tell me somethin’. I didn’t mean t’pressure you, if y’felt that way.”

“Not at all.” Hanzo shook his head, frowning for a second, but his quiet smile returned just as quickly. “I’m just… Not used to it. It’s been a very long time since I had a partner, whether it was for jobs or more. I’m used to being alone, and keeping most of myself hidden, since others are not always as open to my true form. Among other things.”

McCree nodded.

“So… It became a habit, to avoid, to dodge questions ‘handsomely’ as you said. But this -” he motioned to the two of them “- has lasted longer than any previous attempts before, and I hope it continues. And an important part of that is communication, correct?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Like Penny and Doreen. You could tell how close they were.”

“Sure.”

“And not like Mayor Nutt, who seemed… Cagey is a polite way of putting it. Refusing to tell the citizens about the theft, overseeing the raid himself. No communication, and his motives... They don’t inspire a lot of trust. I fear…” Hanzo shook his head again. “Beside the point. Feel free to ask me a question.”

“That’s a tall order. I got so many to ask…” McCree trailed off, staring at Hanzo as he thought. “I just… Wanna know more about you. Do you have a family? You mentioned a clan earlier.”

Hanzo closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply, a fortifying action if there ever was one. “Yes, I had a clan. And I had - have a brother.”

McCree watched Hanzo carefully, as the other man turned and looked out ahead of them, across the land.

“He is not keen on speaking with me,” Hanzo admitted after a moment. “Not that I blame him. I did something atrocious. That was the business that I spoke of originally, that wasn’t pressing. Waiting for him to contact me.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I know he has a… Home. Somewhere he returns to regularly, I went there once, looking for him, but he didn’t return while I was there. Almost pointedly, considering the monks there commented that he should have came back by that time.”

McCree frowned, watching as all the good humour drained out of Hanzo. “Hey.”

Hanzo glanced over.

“I got another question.”

“Of course.”

“Are you a sex demon? Don’t laugh!”

Hanzo pressed a hand to his chest, and made a valiant attempt to stop laughing. Once he finally caught his breath, he smiled at McCree, and raised an eyebrow. “You would like to know that, wouldn’t you?”

**Author's Note:**

> They walked off into the sunset, McCree still too sore to ride.


End file.
